This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. Stanley had never thought out. He seemed to deliberate. "Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman," said Wood, pouring out a glass of spirit, and presenting it to Terence, who smacked his lips as he disposed of it. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service.
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