“I hope that Mr. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. We shall have him on his return. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. The door leaned inward. To write under a pseudonym!—to be forced to disown his children! He could not write under his own name, enjoy the fruits of fame should these tales prove successful. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room.
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