“How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt.
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