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“That was a moment of madness,” she said. It is necessary. "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. “I will make it possible,” he cried. ” Her eyes were lit with humour. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. She had been so young then. ‘Is it such a terrible prospect? I will take care of you—as long as you obey me. Never. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn.
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