“I said, ‘I’ll kill you;’ because I felt like killing him. And then--then he laughed. He said, ‘Kill me! How will you be better off for that?’ And that made me worse. I made up my mind that--that I’d kill him.” She paused. I shuddered, clutching the curtains tighter. Although I did not turn to look at them, I knew that there was something strange on the faces of Miss Adair and Hume; that even the constable was moved to a display of unusual interest. A faint whisper reached me from the lady: “Stop her! Don’t let her go on!” I was conscious of a weakness in my throat, which made my voice sound as if I were hoarse, as I whispered a reply. “I shan’t attempt to stop her. I shall let her say all that she has to say. I’m not afraid.” I felt her pull at my coat sleeve, as a dog might do to show its sympathy. The girl within continued. She had put her hands up to her brow again, and seemed battling with her torpid faculties. Through all that followed, in spite of the emotion which sometimes would grip me by the throat, I was conscious of the singular quality of her beauty, which caused it to increase as her agitation grew. Strangely out of keeping with the dreadful nature of some of the things she said was the air of innocence which accompanied them. She depicted herself as playing a leading part in a hideous tragedy, with the direct simplicity of a little child who confesses to faults of whose capital importance it has not the faintest notion. “Did I kill him? Did I? Not then--no, not then. Then he came in, and it began all over again, right from the beginning; and--we quarrelled. We both said we would kill him, both of us; and he laughed. The more we said that we would kill him the more he laughed. And that--that made us worse. Then--then it came in. It! It!” She shuddered. A look of abnormal terror came on her face. She covered her hands, uttering cries of panic fear. “Don’t! Don’t! I won’t! I won’t! You mustn’t make me, you mustn’t! Don’t let it come near me! Don’t let it touch me! I can’t bear to think of its touching me! Oh!” With a gasp, uncovering her eyes, she stared, affrightedly, at something which she seemed to see in front of her. “What is it? I’m not afraid. Why should I be afraid? There is nothing the matter. I am not so easily frightened. I said I would kill him, but not like that, not like that. Did I say I’d kill him? Yes. And I did! I did! But I didn’t mean to. Did I mean to? I don’t know. Perhaps I meant to. He says I meant to, and perhaps he knows.” She stood staring in front of her, with blank, unmeaning gaze. Then, giving herself a little shake, she seemed to wake out of a sort of dream; and to be surprised at finding herself where she was.