"Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. "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. Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner. Everybody who’s going to develop into a woman. There were no mourners.
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