‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. ” She propped herself up on the massive oaken post of the bed, feeling the paralysis tingle her legs as it left them ever so slowly. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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