’ To be sure there was a way. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. ToC About an hour after this, Jack ventured to emerge from his place of concealment. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do. See, it is on my cards—M. I hoped for a family like the Becks and I waded through the system until I got them, so maybe life isn’t so damn hopeless after all.
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