"Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. "And you will answer it frankly?" "Certainly. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. The fates are never so kind to me. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow.
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