. . \"Are you aware that every girl in Princeton Hills would kill for a chance at him? I think it's simple. Mr. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. " "He may learn how to defeat yours," replied Jack. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities. In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely. That boy was the carpenter's apprentice, Jack Sheppard. Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket.
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