’ The dagger was in her hand. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor.
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