Prepared as he was for a dreadful shock, and with his nerves strung to endure it, Jack absolutely recoiled before the appalling object that met his gaze. Some foul murder has been committed. “Think of the mockery!” she said. “Morning, Mom. "No," replied Jack. The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter. At any cost! Her brothers had it practically—at least they had it far more than it seemed likely she would unless she exerted herself with quite exceptional vigor. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him. Kneebone.
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