’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. They were the only real marriages she had seen clearly. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. But I never found any truth in the saying. .
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