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. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. He was in a position to help her. Perhaps she did love research for its own sake, she was certainly gifted enough.
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