His face darkened. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. "This is the explanation of the bloody deed. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. " "You flatter me," smiled Sir James. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. “There, there, now.
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