As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. “How would you prevent it?” she asked. ‘Pitiful. As matters now stand, I'm only a thief, not a blackguard. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance.
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