I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. It's certain. That is what I must do. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. He continued his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader.
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