They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that character, he suffered or prospered equally. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. "If that sickly brat lives to be a man," continued Jonathan, rising, "I'll hang him upon the same tree as his father.
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