Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. In a sense it alters nothing. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. Thinks they’re the same as soldiers. . She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart.
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