His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face. She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. She was discussing one of those modern advanced plays with a remarkable, with an extraordinary, confidence. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. He became angry.
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