"It is your son. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. ” “Did you tell him of the registry office?” “No—o—certainly not so emphatically as I did about the play. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. ‘You would like? And do you imagine that I will tell you?’ ‘Won’t you?’ ‘No, a thousand times. But I'll be more lenient, and content myself with merely chastising you, on condition—" "You may do as you please, master," interrupted Jack, thrusting his hand into his pocket, as if in search of the knife; "but I wouldn't advise you to lay hands on me again. ‘I disgust you, eh? Very well, then. "Give them what you please.
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