‘After all the threats you’ve made, that is hardly
fair. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of
forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. ”
He stood looking at the preparations before them with an unusual preoccupation
of manner, then roused himself to take her jacket, a little awkwardly, and hand it
to the waiter who hung it in the corner of the room. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess,
reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. "Are you my son? Are you
Jack?"
"I am," replied Jack.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 28-06-2024 23:32:52