"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. ” She had had so much time to learn the violin that she often thought to herself that she ought to be much more skilled at it. ‘That rascally knave sent you to become a French nun?’ Looking positively terrified, the girl nodded dumbly. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye.
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