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I was—I was a corespondent. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. " He started to pick up a sheet of manuscript, but she pushed him from the table toward the doorway; and he staggered out of the bungalow, suddenly stretched his arms, and broke into a trot. "Halloa!" cried Jack, looking round, and trying to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker,—"who's that?" "Your mother," replied Mrs.
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