" "I can't. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. "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. Observe it—a blue-serge coat. Dorling said deferentially. But if that can possibly be done I want it to be done. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me.
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