. "I am your most unhappy son. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. 275 “Yes!” She answered, feeling joy and fear well in her chest.
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