In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end.
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