"Oh, sir, kind, good sir," she implored, "spare me! You will not, say
you will not ruin me? We are so happy; it will break his heart if he
learns my secret. He is so good. The children! Have pity on them at
least, sir, and do not betray me."
Jasper smiled, and Lucy became even more incoherent.
"Oh, sir," she cried, the tears streaming down her white face unheeded.
"I was so young, so giddy and thoughtless, and that man was so wicked.
He tempted me. Oh, Mr. Vermont, sir, I will pray every night for you as
I pray for John and my little ones, if you will but spare me and keep my
secret."
She might just as well have prayed to the wooden table, as expect any
mercy or pity from this man, to whom such abject misery was better than
meat and drink.
With a contemptuous gesture, as if to spurn her from his sight, he said:
"Get up, my good woman. I shall keep your secret as long as it pleases
me. Perhaps for ever, who can tell? Good John, simple John," he laughed
maliciously. "He little thinks his wife was given to taking trips to
Canterbury with handsome young men. There! There!" he added, as a moan
of anguish burst from the dry lips of the tortured woman.
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