" CHAPTER XXV. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. "Constance—or, rather, Mrs.
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