He subjected me there to great annoyance by claiming me as his wife. “There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. They proved all sorts of things perhaps, but they were thick, unequal, pitiful pieces of work. “If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with you. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. I want to know who sent you those. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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