Never shall any look upon my face more,
nor read what I have written, nor know what I have done. I
repent not, O God! What I am I am, Not I but Thou hast
created me! Having liv'd mine own Life, I do die mine Own
Death.
JESSAMINE HYNDS.
"This is the Horror that we have--felt!" I babbled. "She's been
sitting here--by herself--all the time--" and my voice failed me,
remembering that dark and anguished sense of guilt and ruin, of
unease and terror, that at times fell upon one in the night like a
smothering garment. Cold drops came upon my forehead, when I
reflected that we had been living under the same roof with This, and
we all unknowing. And I began to whimper: "I cannot stay even one
night more under the same roof with her. I cannot! I cannot!"
"Sophy," said Nicholas Jelnik's quiet voice, "I brought you here
because I relied upon your courage, your common sense, and your
charity."
I gulped. In the most matter-of-fact manner, he gave me another
whiff of that incomparable perfume, and I felt my taut nerves
steady. Not untruthfully had the Coptic physician claimed magic
qualities for that perfume.
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