How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. I feel like a fraudulent trustee.
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