Lights were on and Michelle’s mother was up, occasionally pacing as Michelle and Lucy had been gone for over two hours. "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. I do not think that you will dare to marry anybody else. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. Oh God! my limbs fail me. Edgeworth Bess and Poll Maggot are dying to see you. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well.
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