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. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections.
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