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His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. "Joan! Joan!" vociferated he, "open the door, for God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. They don’t count, and I don’t care. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. A young man was playing the banjo. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him.
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