XXI

thehelpofsigns,bythecharwoman.ShehadlearnedmoreEnglishinthosefewcrimsonminutesthaninthewholeofthetimeshehadbeeninEngland.Thecharwomanhadbegunherdemonstrationbyslowlydrawingherfingeracrossherthroatfromoneeartotheother,andAnnaliserepeatedtheactionforPriscilla'sclearercomprehension.HowPriscillagotupthatdayanddressedsheneverknew.Onceatleastduringtheprocessshestumbledbackontothebedandlaywithherfaceonherarms,shakenbyamostdesperateweeping.Thatfatalcharitythosefatalfive-poundnotes.Annalise,panic-strickenlestshewhopossessedsomanyshouldbethenextvictim,pouredoutthetaleofthemissingmoney,oftheplainmotiveforthemurder,withaconvincingness,anakedtruth,thatstabbedPriscillatotheheartwitheachclinchingword. "Theysaytheoldwomanmusthavecriedout—musthavebeenawakened,orthemanwouldhavetakenthemoneywithout—" "Ohdon't—ohleaveme—"moanedPriscilla. Shedidnotgodownstairsthatday.EverytimeAnnalisetriedtocomeinshesentheraway.Whenshewastalkedtooffood,shefeltsick.Onceshebegantopaceabouttheroom,butthesightofthoseeagerblackknotsofpeopledownthestreet,ofpolicemenandotherimportantandofficial-lookingpersonsgoinginandoutofthecottage,droveherbacktoherbedanditssheltering,world-deadeningpillow.Indeedthewatersoflifehadgoneoverherheadandswallowedherupinhopelessblackness.Sheacknowledgedherselfwrong.Shegaveinutterly.EverywordMrs.Morrison—adreadfulwoman,yetdreadfulasshewasstillathousandtimesbetterthanherself—everywordshehadsaid,everyoneofthosebitterwordsatwhichshehadbeensoindignantthemorningbefore,wastrue,wasjustified.ThatdayPriscillatorethelastshredsofself-satisfactionfromhersoulandsatstaringatitwithhorrifiedeyesasatathingwhollyrepulsive,dangerous,blighting.Whatwastobecomeofher,andofpoorFritzing,draggeddownbyhertoanequalmisery?Aboutoneo'clocksheheardMrs.Morrison'svoicebelow,inaltercationapparentlywithhim.Atthistimeshewascryingagainbitter,burningtearsthosescorchingtearsthatfollowinthewakeofdestroyedillusions,thatdrop,hotandwithering,ontothefragmentsofwhatwasoncetheguidinggloryofanideal.Shewasbroughtsolow,wassohumbled,souncertainofherself,thatshefeltitwouldbringherpeaceifshemightgodowntoMrs.Morrisonandacknowledgeallhervilenesstellherhowwrongshehadbeen,askherforgivenessforherrudeness,begherforpity,forhelp,forcounsel.Sheneededsomekindolderwoman,—ohsheneededsomekindolderwomantoholdoutcoolhandsofwisdomandshowhertheway.Butthenshewouldhavetomakeacompleteconfessionofeverythingshehaddone,andhowwouldMrs.Morrisonoranyotherdecentwomanlookuponherflightfromherfather'shome?Wouldtheynotturnawayshudderingfromwhatshenowsawwasahideousselfishnessandingratitude?Thealtercationgoingonbelowroserapidlyinheat.JustattheenditgrewsoheatedthateventhroughthepillowPriscillacouldhearitsflamingconclusion. "Man,Itellyouyournieceistoallintentsandpurposesamurderess,adoublemurderess,"criedMrs.Morrison."Notonlyhasshethewoman'smurdertoanswerfor,buttheruinedsoulofthemurdereraswell." Uponwhichtherewasaloudshoutof"Hence!Hence!"andagreatslammingofthestreetdoor. ForsometimeafterthisPriscillaheardfeveredwalkingaboutinherparlourandsoundsasofmanyandmuffledimprecationsthen,whentheyhadgrownalittlemoreintermittent,carefulfootstepscameup