"They always strike with
a weapon or with the clenched fist. Shall I tell you whose mark that is?
Bruce's. If he did not murder him himself, he struck him after he was
dead."
"Impossible," I said; "how could he? He has never--"
Livingstone cast my arm loose somewhat impatiently. "We shall know all
some day," he growled, his whole face black with passion. "I am
convinced of it. If he's on earth I'll find him; and when I do, if I
show him mercy or let him go--" The imprecation that followed was not
less solemn and terrible because it was muttered to his own heart.
"We must never let Isabel guess the truth," he said, when he became
calmer. "It would be worse than all. She would always think she had
caused this, and she has enough to bear up against already. God help
her!"
Soon Aglaee came to tell us that her mistress was asleep. The
Frenchwoman's first impulse had been to be hysterical and helpless; it
was only her terror of Guy prevailing over all others that made her, as
she was, very useful.
He went to the door for an instant, and looked at Isabel. Dreamland was
kinder and pleasanter to her than real life, poor child, for there was a
smile on her lips that, when she was waking, would be long in visiting
them.
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