They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. Of course, if at any time—see reason—alter your opinion. 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. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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