And as she saw it now he would see it all the days of his life.
He felt like the living captive bound to the dead in some infernal triumph of Fate.

Dead and not dead--that was the horrible thing.

Beneath that mask that was not Molly, Molly was alive.

She would live, she would be young when he was long past middle age.
He found it in him to think bitterly of the little thing for the courage that had saved his life--for that.

Of all her rash and inconsiderate actions this was the worst.