And there was another matter. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. He had forgiven everybody. But let that verse tell my secret. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. The venturous climber gazed for a moment at the assemblage beneath, to ascertain that he was not discovered; and, having satisfied himself in this particular, he stepped out more boldly. “It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. There was something indeed holding the whole species back from the imaginable largeness of life. So I dare say I was christened Jack.
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