My dear, you would think... that old reprobate had tortured her... stolen her patrimony, flung her out of doors... roasted, stuffed and eaten her children... and gone frolicking about wreathed in all the flowers... of Sodom and Gommorah.
Querido, ¿pensaría uno que ese viejo réprobo la torturaba? ¿Qué le había quitado su patrimonio? ¿Echado de su casa?