“No, I am alone,” she answered. But once I started, Forever Fifteen seemed to fly out of me like a bat out of Hell, virtually writing itself. 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. No one would ever know what happened to him. She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the pencils, curiously stirred. ‘As for an heir, I have Alderley cousins enough. And, in fact, all round the problem you don’t know and I don’t see how I could possibly have told you before. Capes. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books.
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