At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. It was enough. " "Thank you! thank you!" faltered Jack, in a voice full of emotion. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted. ‘No! Let me alone!’ ‘It is not safe!’ ‘That is entirely my affair, and not your affair in the least,’ she told him haughtily. "I don't know what his idea was.
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