Now, at last, she threw herself upon her bed, weeping bitter tears, tears of a broken spirit, and there she lay prostrate with fatigue and misery.

Nor would she go down to say a word of farewell.

How could she say adieu to her daughter, leaving her house in such circumstances 'I will give her your love,' said William Bolton.
'Say nothing to her.

She does not care for my love, nor for the love of her Father in heaven.

She cares only for that adulterer.' The door was opened from within, and the chains were taken away from the gate.