You see, I have had to look after myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence. They did not want her. 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. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well.
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