“There is a secret. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. "Not before it's needed," returned Jack, aloud; adding in a whisper, "get upon my shoulders, Thames.
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