"I have killed her," cried Jack. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. He was daring enough to have seized and carried him off before the whole congregation, but he preferred waiting. "Fire! That was what drew me to you in the beginning. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified.
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