His course, however, was no longer interrupted, and he crept on. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. ‘Yes, very rude,’ agreed the major. Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. 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.
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