Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. Wood the carpenter. ’ ‘But I have told you not,’ she protested. I want to do something. Jonathan nodded assent. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs.
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