Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Jack's recapture was speedily made known to all the officers of the jail, and the Lodge was instantly crowded. "Only my darbies," returned Jack, clinking his chains. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. . Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. There's our young friend upstairs.
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