He had, however, planned brilliant careers for his two sons, and, with a certain human amount of warping and delay, they were pursuing these. Left alone with Edgeworth Bess, Jack burst into a loud laugh of exultation. "By my shoul!" he exclaimed, smacking his lips, "dat ish goot—very goot. He's now in spring-ankle warehouse with Sir Rowland Trenchard. ’ ‘She is no longer a mystery,’ Gerald said.
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