"What a pity it was to cut it up," she said, pointing to the rags of Jael and Sisera.
"Never mind the picture now. Dreadful as it is, you must allow yourself to think of him for a few minutes."
"Think of what! O God! yes. Conway, you must tell me what to do. Was everything gone? It isn't about myself. I don't mind about myself. I wish it was me instead of him. I do. I do."
"No wishing is of any avail."
"But, Conway, how did it happen? Do you think it is true? That man would say anything to gain his object. Is he here now?"
"I believe he is here still."
"I won't see him. Remember that. Nothing on earth shall make me see him."
"It may be necessary, but I do not think it will be;—at any rate not yet."
"I will never see him. I believe that he has murdered my husband. I do. I feel sure of it. Now I think of it I am quite sure of it. And he will murder you too;—about that girl. He will. I tell you I know the man." Dalrymple simply shook his head, smiling sadly. "Very well! you will see. But, Conway, how do you know that it is true? Do you believe it yourself?"
"I do believe it."