" "Ruth what?" "Enschede; Ruth Enschede. Oh! that Mr. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. 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. Adieu! my charmer. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. Then she sang. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said.
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