“I have not the least idea who he is. ” Anna drummed impatiently with her fingers against the arm of her chair. What are you to do with a mad mother at a time when you need all your wits to take care of yourself?" "Don't concern yourself further about me," returned Jack. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality.
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