That is my right, and I will have every ounce of it.

Do you doubt how God will pronounce?
I call upon him solemnly to pronounce between me and such an one.

If I am guilty of this thing may He wither my arm when I enter the lists." "Myself I will accuse you," came Rosamund's dull voice.

"And if you will, you may claim your rights against me and butcher me as you butchered him." "God forgive you, Rosamund!" said Sir Oliver, and went out.
He returned home with hell in his heart.

He knew not what the future might hold in store for him; but such was his resentment against Rosamund that there was no room in his bosom for despair.