Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. . ’ Her lashes fluttered. One night she apparently fell asleep. 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. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. Apparently, Jonathan perceived he was an object of scrutiny; for, hastily dismissing his attendant, he walked towards the knight. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring.
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