” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. " "Poor Jack!" sighed Thames. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. " "What do you think of my sketch, Jack?" said Hogarth, handing him the drawing. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. “Even if he lives here you may go all your life and never come face to face with him again.
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