She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. ” Her voice trembled with suppressed passion. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards.
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