CHAPTER XIII

I suppose that it is a perfectly vain imagining when I wonder whether the Angel’s last fiendish outbreak—that so nearly cost me my sight, if not my life—_was_ her last. It would give me very great peace of mind to think that the mood that followed, the mood of remorse and utter repentance, could be thenceforth her normal condition, and that her vehemently expressed hatred of savagery, violence and vice, would last. Vain imaginings and foolish hopes, I fear. For a temperament is a temperament and she was as much the…