"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. He made Hong-Kong at dusk: wet, hungry, and a bit groggy for the want of sleep; but he was in no wise discouraged. These dinners, from their lavish display of ambiguous hors d’oeuvre to their skimpy ices in dishes of frilled paper, with their Chianti flasks and Parmesan dishes and their polyglot waiters and polyglot clientele, were very funny and bright; and she really liked Ramage, and valued his help and advice. He took about five minutes. The doctor nodded to him curtly. For on reaching the second floor, a swishing sound came to Gerald’s ears, as of someone moving about. “Nothing. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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