Meysey Hill—never your wife. Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. I suppose you will think me very unsisterly and cold-hearted, but there are circumstances in connexion with my sister’s latest exploit which are intensely irritating both to my husband and to myself. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners.
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