No one spoke to her. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. You understand me, I’m sure. But the influence of the science radiated far beyond its own special field— beyond those beautiful but highly technical problems with which we do not propose for a moment to trouble the naturally terrified reader.
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