“Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. I'm speaking of virtuous women—of WIVES, Madam. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. The Rev.
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