There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. "Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. "This she-devil has got hold of the sack. I have written, called—of what avail is anything—against that look. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted.
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