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. I’m right again now. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. I am very, very sorry, but you must listen to me. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings.
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