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She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. "No," answered Jack, approaching her, "though, if I had done so, he would have merited his fate. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. It was of no use, she let him do it as she could not be strangled. I do not wish that the soldiers there will see it shine. It was surely odd that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so vividly. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent.
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