The vision was a maddening one.

I shook myself free from it by starting to my feet." It's--it's--" I gasped.
"She has been strangled," quoth Hexford, doggedly.
"A dog's death," mumbled the other.
My hands came together involuntarily.

At that instant, with the memory before me of the vision I have just described, I almost wished that it had been _my_ hate, _my_ anger which had brought those tell-tale marks out upon that livid skin.

I should have suffered less.

I should only have had to pay the penalty of my crime and not be forced to think of Carmel with terrible revulsion, as I was now thinking, minute by minute, fight with it as I would.
"You had better sit down," Hexford suddenly suggested, pushing a chair my way.