‘No, Melusine. There’s sure to be a place somewhere. 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. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. " Meanwhile, the party at the table continued drinking and chatting as merrily as before. How was I to know what would happen? He always said if he couldn’t get you a dowry, you could take the veil.
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