She dressed quickly, pulling on white jeans and a red tee shirt. Or perhaps my father once. “I will go,” he said. A single glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood. "I am coming to the point, Joan. 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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