Wood. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. He looked at her in some embarrassment.
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