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. He did not even reply to her for several minutes. ’ ‘Married?’ ‘I did mention Madame Valade, did I not?’ At that, a growl of startling ferocity escaped her lips. . “You love some one else?” he repeated. Mac would have some new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver. Probably a sick man's whim. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers.
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