No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. Mike chimed in. 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. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. Later Gwen’s trouble weighed so heavily on Mrs. E.
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