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 expect Mr. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt.
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