” “Then there is also,” Anna remarked, “a Montague Hill who is very much alive. He had the appearance of a man who has known no rest for many nights. His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. At the sound of the door Ann Veronica uncovered a tearless face, and with one swift movement assumed a conversational attitude. 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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