No
man could bear it!
And of those cowards who hounded her to death, if indeed she was already
dead! Oh, he would kill Owen Davies--yes, and Elizabeth too, were it not
that she was a woman; and as for Honoria he had done with her. Scandal,
what did he care for scandal? If he had his will there should be a
scandal indeed, for he would beat this Owen Davies, this reptile, who
did not hesitate to use a woman's terrors to prosper the fulfilling of
his lust--yes, and then drag him to the Continent and kill him there.
Only vengeance was left to him!
Stop, he must not give way--perhaps she was not dead--perhaps that
horrible presage of evil which had struck him like a storm was but a
dream. Could he telegraph? No, it was too late; the office at Bryngelly
would be closed--it was past eight now. But he could go. There was a
train leaving a little after nine--he should be there by half-past six
to-morrow. And Effie was ill--well, surely they could look after her for
twenty-four hours; she was in no danger, and he must go--he could not
bear this torturing suspense. Great God! how had she done the deed!
Geoffrey snatched a sheet of paper and tried to write.
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