He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. In their opinion a hundred pounds would not repair the damage done to the prison. My wife—killed me. It would be very hard perhaps to make you understand just how I feel about it. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. It wasn’t clear to me that I had to explain.
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