" "A secret!" exclaimed Trenchard. You shall have your reward. No more. ” He nodded. "I am no murderer," replied Sheppard. 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. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face. “Because I know for a fact that she was having sex with Gary Rothko during homecoming Freshman year and she let him pork her up the ass. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin.
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