In the afternoon he probably loafs in his pajamas. ” “We will,” said Miss Miniver, refusing to be suppressed, “if some of us have to be killed to get it. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. His invalid wife and her money had been only the thin thread that held his life together; beaded on that permanent relation had been an inter-weaving series of other feminine experiences, disturbing, absorbing, interesting, memorable affairs. 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. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired.
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