His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. Ah Cum made a movement as though to follow, but reconsidered. He held in his hands many threads. Naturally it all came out then. Once a sick sailor drew three pictures for me and set down every stay and brace and sail—square-rigger, schooner, and sloop. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. ‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly. And while her son was reconveyed to prison the body of the unfortunate Mrs. Cathy sighed.
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