"
Then he bowed most respectfully to her, and retired, exhaling his pent-up
venom in a diabolical grin.
She, poor victim, stood there stupefied, pierced with a poisoned arrow,
and almost in a state of collapse; then she lifted her hands and eyes for
help, and saw Hope's study in front of her. Everything swam confusedly
before her; she did not know for certain whether he was there or not;
she cried to that true friend for help.
"Mr. Hope--I am lost--I am in the deep waters of despair--save me _once
more_, save me!" Thus speaking she tottered into the office, and sank all
limp and powerless into a chair, unable to move or speak, but still not
insensible, and soon her brow sank upon the table, and her hands spread
themselves feebly out before her.
It was all villainous spite on Monckton's part. He did not for a moment
suppose that his lie could long outlive Walter Clifford's return; but he
was getting desperate, and longing to stab them all. Unfortunately fate
befriended the villain's malice, and the husband and wife did not meet
again till that diabolical poison had done its work.
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