Yet you make our Bohemianism seem like a vulgar thing. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. CHAPTER XXXI. The fascination of the idea of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand clenched tightly. “Come,” she said. ‘Certainly those are names of the most undistinguished, and I would scorn to have them. Well, it's scarcely credible. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity. But be patient, I am your fast friend.
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