Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. 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. "Does your father doubt it? Speak! tell me!" Winifred made no answer. Well, let him be honest. Cheveney was another Paris friend, was he?” she asked.
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