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. "Neither man nor woman shall apply that term to me. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street.
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