” “What’s our lot?” asked her sister. Ruth went on to explain. What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. 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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