If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. They reluctantly went back to school the Thursday after New Year’s Day. I mean I’m not a good specimen of a woman. People, nobody, can do as they like in this world. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. But as the mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her father thickened.
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