I decline to waste a single second even in considering the ugly ones. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. 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 hate what I have to do to survive.
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