When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. “A little nervous. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity.
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