Jackson and Mr. "Not entirely," replied Jonathan, calmly; "though I shouldn't be ashamed of it if it were. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. He was tall, slender, and suave. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. ‘I am not a fool.
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