ToC After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his beloved and illfated mother. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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