"But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. Rowland's purposes were, however, defeated in a manner as unexpected as appalling. 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.
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