Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. ” “Very well,” the man answered. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son —perhaps, I ought rather to say your son, Mr. —'How so?' says I. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth.
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