Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed.
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