My nerves were in rags. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. Send you the shirt. You mustn't go dressing up Tom, Dick, and Harry in Henry Esmond's ruffles. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. ’ He slid slowly down and collapsed to the stone floor, fainting dead away.
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