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. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story.
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