“I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. 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. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. " He opened his eyes again. Borrow.
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