The coach was slowing down, and he realised that they had arrived in Golden Square. "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. Indeed I am! I would make this country a collective monarchy, and all the girls and women in it should be the Queen. He divorced her. But it was the form of her ruling determination; it was the only form that she ever allowed to see daylight. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks.
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