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 his daughter had been the support of his old age, his good Antigone; she had lived lately, it is true, in a bagnio, but whose affair was that? What did honor mean now anyway? Only a word! A foolish word! Though a prostitute, his daughter could for her inner worth be compared with any decent woman! He who had secretly carried her off, who had caught her in his net, should return her! He must, he must!

Nor would he escape his punishment! We are not in the East, where one may kidnap daughters! He talked, and drank, and became excited, and talked again. Every word of his fell like divine manna upon the souls of his hearers, and they continued treating him to beer, wine, and brandy, until at last his grey head fell upon the table. He began to snore loudly