"Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. “Tell him that he is mad. “I have stood it for a month, Anna,” he exclaimed. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. There's good stuff in him, if one could find the way to dig it out. "I'll take you into a Chinese home.
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