‘Well?’ he uttered between heavy breaths. “My Mom was a good lady. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. She felt her skills make a belated return. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. “Oh! please don’t lose yourself in a wilderness of secondary considerations,” she said. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is.
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