But, alas! Ah Cum shrugged philosophically. En tout cas, no one has asked you to puzzle out anything at all. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. ” It was nearly half an hour before they dared ask him the question. ” Annabel gave a little gasp. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. "How, Sir?" "Except by adoption. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. "Be it as you please," replied Winifred.
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