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” “I was turned shortly after the Pestilence, the plague that they call the Black Death. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. ‘Poor Gerald has been very busy about your affairs this last week. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. "I've been deceived by false information. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. I’m not a lovesick boy.
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