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. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. ‘Open the door, fool!’ Then he had Melusine by the shoulders and was hustling her into the hackney. “Hello, John. O'Higgins followed him into the dining room.
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