She remembered the act and the words that had gone with it.

Only she and Bosio had known, and he was dead--he had died four-and-twenty hours after she had touched his hair and had said: 'It is to save me.' And she knew him well.

He was not, under any circumstances, a man to speak of such things to a third person.

Then, how did this Giuditta Astarita know what Matilde had said and done?
It was not natural, and not natural meant supernatural--supernatural meant the possibility of communication, and she had loved the dead man with all her big, sinful soul.
It would be long before the time came for the deed, in the late afternoon, and the terrible day must be disposed of in some way or other.

She was not afraid of going mad, nor of losing her nerve, nor of making a mistake at the last moment, but even to her courage and strength the hours before her were hours of fear.
She planned her day.