’ Hilary eyed him. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. They had not to tarry long.
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