Then Capes shifted his eyes to her microscope and the little trays of unmounted sections beside it. It was a brief solitude, however. "Oh gracious! he's lost. Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. We leave England to-night. . . “You need a reason. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply.
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