So I've grown hard—outside. ” 129 She smiled wider. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. Jack, meanwhile, heard, the shouts, and, though alarmed by them, held on a steady course. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head.
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