" But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still greater. ” “Thank you, Jane. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. A broken laugh followed the action. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No.
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