Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. Melusine’s heart jumped and she felt heat rising into her cheeks. "Don't swear, Jack, or I shall distrust you. I can’t. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid.
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