She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot. 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. Nor my grandfathers both. .
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