“You had only to ask——” “Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling also in her tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man to whom I had lied for your sake. His breakfast despatched, which he ate with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate, chuckling as he went at the consternation which his appearance would create amongst the turnkeys. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. They are mine! They were sent to ‘Alcide’ not to you. Well, it had to happen somewhen. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. My wife—killed me. Fly! they shall knock me on the head—curse 'em!—before they shall touch you. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine.
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