"No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. You’re dogmatic. But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again.
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