" "That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" "That was the thought. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging.
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