And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who, nearly smothered by the weight imposed upon him, only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood altered the position of the bundle. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much.
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