Two strong nurses were using their utmost force to hold Dempster in bed, while the medical assistant was applying a sponge to his head, and Mr. Pilgrim was busy adjusting some apparatus in the background. Dempster’s face was purple and swollen, his eyes dilated, and fixed with a look of dire terror on something he seemed to see approaching him from the iron closet. He trembled violently, and struggled as if to jump out of bed. ‘Let me go, let me go,’ he said in a loud, hoarse whisper; ‘she’s coming ... she’s cold ... she’s dead ... she’ll strangle me with her black hair. Ah!’ he shrieked aloud, ‘her hair is all serpents ... they’re black serpents ... they hiss ... they hiss . .. let me go . . . let me go . . . she wants to drag me with her cold arms ... her arms are serpents ... they are great white serpents ... they’ll twine round me ... she wants to drag me into the cold water ... her bosom is cold ... it is black ... it is all serpents ...’ ‘No, Robert,’ Janet cried, in tones of yearning pity, rushing to the side of the bed, and stretching out her arms towards him, ‘no, here is Janet. She is not dead--she forgives you.’ Dempster’s maddened senses seemed to receive some new impression from her appearance. The terror gave way to rage. ‘Ha! you sneaking hypocrite!’ he burst out in a grating voice, ‘you threaten me ... you mean to have your revenge on me, do you? Do your worst! I’ve got the law on my side ... I know the law ... I’ll hunt you down like a hare ... prove it ... prove that I was tampered with ... prove that I took the money ... prove it ... you can prove nothing ... you damned psalm-singing maggots! I’ll make a fire under you, and smoke off the whole pack of you ... I’ll sweep you up ... I’ll grind you to powder ... small powder ... (here his voice dropt to a low tone of shuddering disgust) ... powder on the bed-clothes ... running about ... black lice ... they are coming in swarms ... Janet! come and take them away ... curse you! why don’t you come? Janet!’ Poor Janet was kneeling by the bed with her face buried in her hands. She almost wished her worst moment back again rather than this. It seemed as if her husband was already imprisoned in misery, and she could not reach him--his ear deaf for ever to the sounds of love and forgiveness. His sins had made a hard crust round his soul; her pitying voice could not pierce it.