’ She struggled. Nobody can trust you. She appeared to be considering. Then she came a few steps to meet him. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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