'
'Is he dead?'
'It is all over. Mrs Richards is there. It is better than an hour since
now. Let me come in.' She got into her sister's bed, and there she told
the tale of her tardy triumph. 'He declared to me at last that he
trusted me,' she said, almost believing that real words had come from
his lips to that effect. Then she fell into a flood of tears, and after
a while she also slept.
CHAPTER XCIX
CONCLUSION
At last the maniac was dead, and in his last moments he had made such
reparation as was in his power for the evil that he had done. With that
slight touch of his dry fevered lips he had made the assertion on which
was to depend the future peace and comfort of the woman whom he had so
cruelly misused. To her mind the acquittal was perfect; but she never
explained to human ears, not even to those of her sister, the manner in
which it had been given. Her life, as far as we are concerned with it,
has been told. For the rest, it cannot be but that it should be better
than that which was passed.
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