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. It was hard to associate her with the stories which he and all Paris had heard of “Alcide. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. But those days are over—quite over.
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