But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. Go on. "It is your son. " "Be silent, and conceal yourself. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. “I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. His first reaction had been explosive as the hurts of the past rose up to taunt him. It doesn’t matter. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it.
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