Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. Stanley, with an imperious gesture, “to come in here. For a few minutes all was silent. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. “Now I suppose Brendon understands exactly what you mean,” he remarked. ‘So are you. She opened and read it at once. And if I don’t, I go mad.
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