‘I want a word with you, my lad. I may want you. ’ He sat on the low wall of the haha and invited her to do the same. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. She came into the room. Trenchard glanced at the document. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. "I have sworn to see him hanged," he said, "and nothing shall keep me away— nothing, by——. “But I’ve heard that he’s broken up with her three times in the past. Ennison with my sister last night.
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