When he was concentrating, deep shadows formed under his gray eyes. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. ” “I can’t be portentous, dear, when you’re about. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that.
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