Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. He thought it best to let the matter drop. Bitte!. "I expect a very extraordinary person to supper, Rachel," he remarked. " Neither man spoke. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation.
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