Jonathan shook his head. ’ ‘You always were an old sobersides, even as a boy,’ retorted the major, who was close on thirty now, yet as ripe for excitement as he had been on receiving his first commission at sixteen. Again silence. ‘Wait, Jacques! I will find the way to open this. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living.
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