Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. I sent my check for ten thousand; and it has cost me six thousand to find you. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head.
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