"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. They were a young man and an old one, and both appeared deeply affected. She pointed. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term. She unlaced his pants and slid them down his hips, examining him as he stood before her naked. The carpenter did not hesitate a moment.
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