" "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. But he told me this much, that no matter how far Mr. “An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. And now she had sent Jack away. 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.
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