It had rushed from my heart and from my lips.

And no sooner was I alone than I burst into hysterical tears, only to stop and compliment myself because they sounded genuine--as though they were not! Towards morning I took to my bed in a burning fever, and lay there, now congratulating myself upon it, because when night came they would all think me so secure; and now weeping because the night might find me dying or dead.

So I tossed, with her note clasped in my hand underneath the sheets; and beneath my very body that stout weapon that I had bought in town.

I might not have to use it, but I was fatalist enough to fancy that I should.

In the meantime it helped me to lie still, my thoughts fixed on the night, and the day made easy for me after all.
If only I could sleep! About nine o'clock Jane Braithwaite paid me a surly visit; in half an hour she was back with tea and toast and an altered mien.