” Chapter XII THE POSTER OF “ALCIDE” On Saturday mornings there was deposited on the plate of each guest at breakfast time, a long folded paper with Mrs. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment. ’ ‘I dare say you do,’ said the general, grim satisfaction overtaking his anger as his prophesy proved accurate. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands.
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