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. He pressed his lips to her with a much greater force than she had anticipated. At this time of day the priest would be at his apartments in Brewer Street, a short walk away from Golden Square which the building overlooked. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting.
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