She was trembling a little. 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. Impelled by a feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him. ‘Eh bien, does that mean that you will do it again?’ ‘Not if I can help it,’ Gerald uttered, alarmed. Seeing provisions in the window, Jack ventured in and bought a loaf. Then you have altered not only that, but your manner of dressing it. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground.
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