’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug. “He does not come here,” she exclaimed, quickly. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. Jonathan's vexation at the disappointment was expressed in the bitterest imprecations, and he returned as speedily as he could to the trench.
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