. "And I," muttered Jack. One only. Those were dreams. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. He was so horny that he could probably make love to a tree. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. He glanced up at the coachman. ‘I knew you would be furious. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. “I shan’t eat him. How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question.
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