I’ve had enough of it. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. “I must repeat,” Sir John said, “that I much regret disturbing you at such an unseemly hour. "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.
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