He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago.
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