ToC After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his beloved and illfated mother. See paragraph 1. She spoke slowly. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. “I believe after all it’s coming out!” said Miss Stanley. A young man turned to pay the cabman. Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. “Hold on. He was now almost driven to despair. Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it.
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