"He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest. ’ ‘Not dead, miss. However, I've not told you all; for old Van did say something about the child saving his new-found friend's life at the time of meeting; but how that's to happen, I'm sure I can't guess. ’ ‘And why are you not married,’ she demanded suddenly, ‘if it is that you have land?’ Gerald grimaced. Life is morality—life is adventure.
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