" "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. “The sooner you tell me the better. And this idiot, he has threatened to arrest me and make them take me to prison.
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