Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. Wild is sure to be up. ’ He sighed elaborately. ’ She was about to develop this theme, when Jack’s gaze became fixed, and his expression changed. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. "You're right Jack," he said, after a pause, during which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed attention: "this must have been my father!" "No doubt of it," answered Sheppard; "only compare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're as like as two peas in a pod.
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