"One motive alone shall induce me to go on with you," said Jack. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. He had brought her here to this place—where her freedom was curtailed even more than at the convent so that a cavalier was very much needed—and only on Monday came again. “She’s proclaimed herself queen of the school. "Yes. But oh, how weary I am! I know.
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