“On the rack there.”
“Was your candle lit?”
“Not then, sir.”
“Yet you found the rack?”
“I felt for it. I knew where it was.”
“When did you light the candle?”
“After I hung up the coat.”
“And when you came down? Did you have the candle then?”
“Yes, for a while. But I didn’t have any light when I went for the coat and hat. I remember feeling all along the wall. I don’t know what I did with the candlestick or the candle. I had them on the stairs; I didn’t have them when I put on the coat and hat.”
I knew what she did with them. She flung them out of her hand upon the marble floor. Should I ever forget the darkness swallowing up that face of mental horror and physical suffering.