"Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. ” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. You wanted to play a lone hand. ’ ‘Very good, ma’am. ’ ‘Ah, so that’s where Valade comes in,’ nodded Lucy. That would be an unkind twist of fate. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter.
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