Yet, the feeling her kiss had raised in his breast haunted the wretched man long after he had caused her death. Sometimes the one memory pained him more than the other. He would wonder, if he had been bold enough to speak openly to Jenny of his feelings regarding her, whether she would have listened to his story and requited his affection, just a little, in return. She would dance before him, like an airy phantom, all through the dull, old streets of the city, beckoning him, with her dimpled little hand, to come nearer and nearer, and taste her lips once more! And then, when he had worked his imagination up to a pitch of frenzy, the scene would change, and he would see, instead, Jenny lying still and white in her shroud, with the purple marks of foul decomposition upon her cheeks and brow. Yet, dead as she appeared, her wraith would still have the power to unclose its lustreless eyes and livid lips to say, ‘_These_ are the lips with which I kissed you, and _you_ it was who rendered them like this, unfit for anyone but the worms to touch again.’ He would see her in the sunshine, and in the gloaming--in the crowded streets and by the deserted river-side--in the Mart and in his private office--till he nearly went mad with the longing to stamp her out from his brain, or to plunge himself into the silent river and follow her wherever she might be. Much as she had haunted and pursued him since that fatal moment when he pushed her over the Dover cliff, never had he seen her as he had done since Wally’s accident! She seemed to come now with a mocking smile upon her lips--a smile which said, ‘_I_ did it! _I_ made him fall! _I_ did for you what you did for me! Who was it made you drink morphia until you had paralysed your brain? _I!_ Who was it drove you wild as you stumbled up these stairs? The remembrance of _me_! You killed me, and I have subjected your boy to a living death--a death far worse than mine--a death which will numb his nerves and his brain, and keep him a prisoner for life, tied to a sofa, inert in mind and muscle. Wally’s accident was due to me! _You_ made my parents childless. I have robbed you of your son and heir.’ He suffered extra torture from the daily inquiries which met him as he entered the office. Of course, every clerk there had heard the story of his child’s fall, and was anxious to learn what the effects might be. The constant question of, ‘How is the little boy to-day, sir? I trust he is better;’ or, ‘Have the doctors given any decided opinion about Master Wally, sir? Is he any worse this morning?’ drove the unfortunate father nearly out of his senses, and often caused him to swear, in a most unfatherly manner, in return for the kindly inquiries made on the child’s behalf.