It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. "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. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship.
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