F. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. ’ He bowed slightly, and indicated the house behind them with a wave of his hand. Wood could stand it no longer. John eased off. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. En tout cas, why had he not returned? She pondered the question as, later, she paced about her favourite retreat. "Be silent," said Jonathan, in a menacing whisper.
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