I know why. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. Gerald doubted there would be many eager suitors, even assuming the comtesse was keen to marry off her daughter to a foreign protestant. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. Taking the wind was her business in life. Spurlock—for that's his real name—were married at high noon.
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