It shall never be said that I raised my arm willingly against a woman. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. And Anna was conscious of a few moments of exquisite emotion. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. Her eyes were wide and bright. Parbleu, but must she do this all through the house? Evidently she must, for not only could she not properly see the paintings and portraits that hung on the walls, but she was in imminent danger of bumping into the sheet-shrouded furniture. Why did I not realise it at once? It just shows how one should not judge by appearances. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch.
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