" "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. "This your regular business?" "For the present. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. ‘You are too shrewd for me, ma’am. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. .
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