He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. It may be well, therefore, before proceeding farther, to describe it more minutely. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly. “I want to know more about this movement,” said Ann Veronica. "Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure.
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