" "Let me go," implored Mrs. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. “I haven’t a scrap—of this sort of aversion. Mrs. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. I've taught him all he can do; and there isn't his fellow, and never will be again. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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