She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Wood caught hold of Jack's leg, and dragged him off the bench. You must tell me what it all means. You cannot possibly leave me here alone with Gerald. She's the boss.
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