"Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. Ennison, or any other young man. You'd better lose no time. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. I haven’t, anyhow. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. "In the name of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere, I implore you to answer me," urged Kneebone, "why—why would you not accept him?" "Because our positions are different," replied Winifred, who could not resist this appeal to her feelings.
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