"By the avenger of his family's dishonour—by your brother," he replied, coolly. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. He jumped back, cursing. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. Taking her limbs was the only thing I could do short of killing her. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate.
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