” She pointed to the envelope still resting upon the mantelpiece. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. ’ ‘Grossly unfair, too. 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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