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. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek.
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