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. “I’ve brought you up some dinner, Vee,” she said. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head.
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