There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. She might even forgive him. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. ” She replied dryly. “I’m still inside you. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it.
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