"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday. Spurling: "I blush for you, Sir! To call yourself a man, and interfere with the natural course of affection! Have you no feeling for the situation of those poor disconsolate creatures, about to be bereaved of all they hold dear? Is it nothing to part with a husband to the gallows? I've lost four in the same way, and know what it is. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. He knew it was unnerving, he did it to everyone, even his own kin. Spurling.
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