Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. A young man turned to pay the cabman. “But, forgive me, you are tired. I’ll need you to go back to the barracks and fetch more men up to town. My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters. The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table.
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