But that ring shall be properly buried, and the hand that wears it, because it _does_ wear it.

So I'm going to take the woman out of this and put her where she will not have to be a monster in order to live." And he did what he said he would do.

He found a place in some old women's home for that aged demon, and one day he made me go with him to see her.

Maybe it was the different dress and the different surroundings, but, it seemed to me, her eyes were not as they were in the low restaurant.

The hand that wore the thin gold ring was clean in its pitiful shrunkenness.