He patted the hand on his sleeve. " Neither spinster noticed the reluctance in the tones. "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. After that consolations fled. Michelle looked at her pathetically. She had lost it. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. Here goes.
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