’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. Let him not bear the weight of my punishment. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy.
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