CHAPTER III. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. I never made any effort to touch them; so by and by they learned to light fearlessly on my arms and shoulders. I’ve got imagination. " "Ha!" exclaimed Jack, drawing in his breath, and leaning forward with intense curiosity.
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