"Done!" cried Shotbolt. Took and ran away when she got herself with child. “So you’re the one my son has been talking about. He hated to destroy it; but that was the obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man. I'll knock off at tea. And to think that man got it all out of the poorest little love-story for a respectable titled lady! Have you read of it?” “Never. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him.
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