She might even forgive him. Maybe others that I do not know about. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. Not afraid of me, either. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. And if you treat me in this way, you will have my death to answer for, as well as the deaths of my husband and child. But she could not live in constant association with him without having these gaps filled.
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