At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. She had animated dark blue-gray eyes under her fine eyebrows, and dark brown hair that rolled back simply and effectively from her broad low forehead. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. In all her life no living thing had had to depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. He found the horse where Thames told him he would find him, mounted, and rode off across the fields in the direction of town. “Much better.
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