Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her. ‘When you say it like this, certainly it appears absurd. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack.
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