The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. ’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. "Shoot him! shoot him! Put him out of hish mishery," cried the Jew. “Let’s go. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath. 266 She peered up at him. And then all her restlessness was turned to joy.
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