Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. The manager conceded that he saw, that his original diagnosis was at fault. How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. The close-fitting round gown, if a little oldfashioned with its very narrow waist and wide skirts, was becoming on a full figure, and the low décolletage, unencumbered by any form of covering, exposed a good deal of bosom. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within.
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