Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. ‘My God!’ he said, ‘I’ll go after them and kill him. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. ‘And I am very glad you did this bad thing, because if not, who would take care of me?’ Martha shook her head, and Melusine spied wetness again in her eyes, although they met hers bravely. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. But she doesn’t and won’t divorce me. Shotbolt?" rejoined the executioner.
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