"Set your prisoner free!" returned Wood. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. .
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