“Shot through the lungs,” he remarked. 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. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. net/1/5/6/1/15614/ Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Clare Elliott and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
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