At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. This mitigated her remorse enormously. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. “Listen to me. I had no idea!” She sat down abruptly and threw her wrists limply upon the table. "A husband has little to fear from his wife's kinsfolk. Manning,” she began. ‘It is imbecile that you are. And yet that could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. Even that he sleeps, I must give to him my thanks, for he has been excessively brave for me.
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