CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. “Very well,” said her father. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. She knew she was a monster and so did they. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. Wood," she continued, in an authoritative tone, seeing her husband ready to depart, "one word before you set out. I’m glad you’re back for all sorts of reasons.
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