“He looks as though he did, at any rate. My late husband, I mean. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. ' That's your signal. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. "I'll admit that. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. Up to this moment, hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong representations in his favour having been made in the highest quarter; but now that his fate seemed sealed, the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him was redoubled.
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