‘Hadn’t meant you to know,’ said the nun gruffly. Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love.
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