Her fingers rested upon his. Yes—as he would have liked. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. "Well, I'm not far from the mark. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. It would be the culmination of her plan. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters.
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