It was perfectly logical. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. Speedily recovering himself, however, he rejoined, with forced calmness, "You are mistaken, Sir. I’m a man, and I know what I mean. " "And partly what else?" "I shall never tell anybody that. “A very clear statement, madam,” he said. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock.
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