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. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. I did not know what God had in mind then. "A good idea!" exclaimed the carpenter. But you could have just as easily lost your womb in the Pestilence, and your life. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it.
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