" "You shall finish the bottle when the job's done," replied Jonathan. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. 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. It’s a sort of home-leaving instinct. I bent over him. “What a hypocrite you are.
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