Wood. I'll not speak of Jack or Jonathan. Now, more than ever, it was time to start running. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. So I packed up and came to London next day. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm.
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