Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. He seemed to know a great deal about life. ” “As long as you remain under my roof—” he began, and paused. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. ” “Why couldn’t you do that at home?” “I’m working at the Imperial College. " "Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other.
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