" "The boy's not at my house," replied Wild. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. Just a friendly polite suggestion. She felt he would tell people the way, control traffic, and refuse admission to public buildings with invincible correctness and the very finest explicit feelings possible. That's my maxim; and it's the maxim of every honest man. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis.
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