"What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. “I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man. . Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. It was a letter.
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