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She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. "You will spare the officers a labour then," rejoined Jonathan. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. "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. What little happiness I had I was forced to steal. Jonathan's threats are not to be sneezed at.
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