She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. “Did you ever see women so weary-looking and so dowdy? They do not talk. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. 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.
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