“Yet stay! Where is thy Lord?”

“Alas! I do not know.”

“Then get ye gone—from hence!”

“I shall obey.”

“... Wail it!” Mrs. Mary rested.

“Wail what, Mrs. Mary?”

“Let me hear that bey: O-bey. Sound your menace.”

“I shall o-bey.”

“O beating heart, Mrs. Mary paced stormily the room, Tumultuous throbbing breast. Alas! how art thou laden?...”

She turned.