This was not exactly what the woollen-draper desired. ” She laid her hand softly upon his. "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. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey.
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