A door in this house opened upon the yard. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. "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. Bring the light this way—quick! I cannot decipher the signature. The kissing of the book struck her as particularly odd, and then the policemen gave their evidence in staccato jerks and stereotyped phrases. ’ He laughed. Her father for fifteen years, and you now for the rest of her life! Tell her you're a thief.
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