He laughed to hide his uneasiness. Lucy could see the resemblance of Martin to both of his parents as plain as day. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. I know what I am doing better than you do. I took the money myself, and ought to know.
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