Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. She recalled him. . Little by little, she stopped hating him.
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