For a long time neither spoke again. “I’m not a good woman. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. She addressed Ann Veronica with an air of conveying great open secrets to her. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. She no more realizes what she has done than a child of eight. "You may," replied Jack: "I'll fight for you to the last gasp. ‘Now let’s have it.
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