The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. " "Your ladyship——" hesitated Norris. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct.
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