The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. She always dawdled, so it was easy. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. She became aware of his presence as she had never been aware of any human being in her life before.
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