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. There was no light in the room; but, notwithstanding this, the young man did not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs. . Until that was done a certain experience of life assured him that a girl is a locked coldness against a man’s approach.
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