Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you. ” He stood still, looking at her. ‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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