" Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. .
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