“Time for my Patience,” she said. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. Such a time that it takes for them to go. You know as well as I do that it was accident. "Without proper medical care, he would have been dead by morning. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed.
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