At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. ‘Jarvis Remenham was your mother’s father. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. “I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening. “Cool. I’m not a lovesick boy. “Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. "But it won't do.
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