" "But they are everything to me," cried Jack, stooping to pick them up. ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. He had not to wait long. He had often read about it, and once he had incorporated it in a story, that invisible force which sent men to prison and to the gallows, when a tongue controlled would have meant liberty indefinite. ’ She ended on a note of sheer frustration, clenched fists beating the air.
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