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“One can’t tell. . Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. It would hurt no one. A cold shiver came over her. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. The unfortunate woman was stretched upon the floor, with a bloody knife in her hand. Wood went on fuming, and the trio went on laughing for some minutes, nobody knew why or wherefore, until the party was increased by Mr. "I thought I heard a scream. Perhaps it was loneliness.
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