"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. ” She whispered. I get the feeling that you are special, so alone, so beautiful that I must get to the bottom of you if it takes my whole life. . Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. What is the supreme idea in the heart and mind of youth? To win fame and fortune: and particularly to enjoy them.
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