Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. I’ve had it, Sheila. 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. Ann Veronica liked their relationship all the more because it was an unusual one. “This has almost killed your father.
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