I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so. . She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. We went our ways. " Sir Rowland looked at her for a moment, as if he meditated some terrible reply.
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