Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. See paragraph 1. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. " "All right. " "Indeed!" rejoined Sir Rowland, haughtily; "perhaps, you will refresh my memory as to the time, and place. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room.
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