"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. This lady is my wife, and I have a right to be here. Sheppard in the asylum, and take her this, and send her that;—and I've never prevented you, though such mistaken liberality's enough to provoke a saint. You are not a tourist seeking adventure.
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