He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. He turned. “You too were deceived. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. She had come to the end of her resources. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. But she was not there. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to.
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