Outside the door stood one of the soldiers. 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. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending.
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