But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. She came along with the fluttering assurance of some tall ship. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. Fas du tout. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind.
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