“Say you will pray for me.”
“I will.”
“Ah! that comforts me! Now you can go.”
Emily looked at her imploringly. “Don’t send me away, knowing no more of the murder than I knew when I came here! Is there nothing, really nothing, you can tell me?”
Mrs. Rook pointed to the door.
“Haven’t I told you already? Go downstairs, and see the wretch who escaped in the dawn of the morning!”
“Gently, ma’am, gently! You’re talking too loud,” cried a mocking voice from outside.
“It’s only the doctor,” said Mrs. Rook. She crossed her hands over her bosom with a deep-drawn sigh. “I want no doctor, now. My peace is made with my Maker. I’m ready for death; I’m fit for Heaven. Go away! go away!”