There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated. "Let me go," cried Winifred. . ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. "I opened the padlock with this crooked nail, which I found in the floor.
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