He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. ‘Again?’ Another simple parry. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. I didn’t believe him and I said so. Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he summoned courage to call out "Mother!" "Who's there?" asked a faint voice from the bed. She looked steadfastly out. Fortescue?” “At your service.
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