She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. 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. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. . From the first I could see that neither believed my story.
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