As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. " "Lead the way to it then, Saint Giles," said Jack, in a tone of mock authority. And now tell me what has happened to my poor mother?" "Ever since your last capture, and Thames's mysterious disappearance, she has been dreadfully ill," replied Winifred; "so ill, that each day was expected to be her last. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight.
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