A sob was strangled in her throat. Anna suddenly leaned forward and looked around her. He would stare at her intensely when he was certain his parents were not looking in his direction. "I have killed her," cried Jack. Andrew's church, the bell of which was tolling, was covered with spectators. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother.
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