She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. 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. " "There you're wrong, Mr. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. That is an evil place!” She cried.
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