The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. "I'll make sure work this time," he added, about to repeat the blow. "I have baffled you. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it. And all to satisfy a succession of rapacious lightskirts.
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