He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship. Unless we can get some optimism into him, he'll probably start this all over again when he gets on his feet. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. But Melusine was a little inclined to like this side of the major. “Dear me!” he said.
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