--Goodbye, Stephen said in his wake. He stretched out his arms in the street to hold fast the frail swooning form that eluded him and incited him: and the cry that he had strangled for so long in his throat issued from his lips. Temple turned back to Stephen and asked: --Do you believe in the law of heredity? --Are you drunk or what are you or what are you trying to say? asked Cranly, facing round on him with an expression of wonder. They had a different father and mother.
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