I cannot have my wife distressed or worried. I should scarcely have known you. 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. Well-born, welleducated; those are the lads that pay in full. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. " "Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage. Spurlock advanced, the censer swung high.
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