Her lover surely did not 223 understand the implications of what he had asked for and his lust blinded him to the realities of existence even now. He certainly bore inspection. ‘Come, cry a truce. “I want to have no distractions. He was looking pale and ill. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. You're an angel of goodness. He could not doubt it. .
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