But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. "Fly!" cried Jack; "escape if you can; don't mind me. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. ‘You’re speaking the truth. The doors of several of the wards were thrown open for these parties, and as Jack passed, he could not help glancing at the wretched inmates. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. When he awoke it was late in the day, and raining heavily. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. .
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