"I have no right to
lecture you on your bad deeds, no right, no right."
She threw up her arms and clung sobbing to his neck.
"There, there, never mind," he said soothingly. "Take a sip of this and
you will feel better."
Disengaging her arms from his neck he drew a goblet, half full of water,
toward him, and emptied the contents of a small vial into it.
"Enough to kill a giant," he muttered low, as he placed the goblet to the
lips of his wife.
One swallow and then she uttered a great cry and sank back quivering.
He sprang to his feet replacing with trembling hand the goblet on the
stand at the head of the bed.
"That will fix her," he muttered.
"Andrew, Andrew, what have you done?" she questioned, gaspingly.
"How do you feel?"
His eyes fairly glared at her.
"Worse--_that was poison!_"
He uttered a guttural laugh. Then in a fit of madness bent low and
hissed:
"You are right, old woman, it was poison! It isn't the first dose you
have taken, either. I meant to have you out of my way before now."
What demon possessed him to tell her this?
His manner had changed suddenly, indeed.
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