His eyes were red. “I don’t know where to go to. ‘Couldn’t even trouble to make a pretence of motherhood. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. " "Look at it, then," said Wild, giving him the portfolio. 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. She told me the tale the other night, and I've only elaborated it. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil.
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