Then he stood silent a long moment; perhaps he was rehearsing the scene of his seizure.
"This is death," he muttered at last, "and I am in hell. I have always known what it would be—dark—utter and bitter loss of light."
As his hand moved, the chain rattled. He sprang back with such violence that his lunging weight jerked her to her feet.
"It is useless to struggle," she cried.
"A woman! Where am I?"
"You are lost."
"But what has happened? In God's name, madame, are we chained together?"
"We are."
"By whose power? By whose right and command?"
"By one against whom we cannot appeal."