None presented themselves to save him from that return. She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. She had paid her bill, and she had enough left in her purse to pay many such. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely. It amounted to two-and-twenty pounds. She had nothing to say for herself. Here is one verse. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so.
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