" "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. "He shan't trouble you further. It was only by the adoption of such a course (especially since the late act of suppression, to which we have alluded,) that the inviolability of the asylum could be preserved. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful.
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