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At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. CHAPTER X. I’ve no name for it yet. He was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. "Relating to the father of the boy—Thames Darrell," supplied Jonathan. "Halloa!" cried Jack, looking round, and trying to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker,—"who's that?" "Your mother," replied Mrs. "I shall be back presently," replied Thames, evasively.
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