’ Melusine edged a little away from the portrait. 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. . Her father’s step quickened to a trot. Wood fancied he recognised.
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