Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. But this was a vicomte’s sister. 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. There was no one at home, and I was coming away when I saw that the door was open.
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