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. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. It's a sorry world," he went on. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. F.
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