“Did you come here to escape from him, Lizzie?”
“I came here immediately after he so alarmed me.”
“Are you afraid of him here?”
“I am not timid generally, but I am always afraid of him. I am afraid to see a newspaper, or to hear a word spoken of what is done in London, lest he should have done some violence.”
“Then you are not afraid of him for yourself, dear?” said Bella, after pondering on the words.
“I should be even that, if I met him about here. I look round for him always, as I pass to and fro at night.”
“Are you afraid of anything he may do to himself in London, my dear?”
“No. He might be fierce enough even to do some violence to himself, but I don’t think of that.”
“Then it would almost seem, dear,” said Bella quaintly, “as if there must be somebody else?”
Lizzie put her hands before her face for a moment before replying: “The words are always in my ears, and the blow he struck upon a stone wall as he said them is always before my eyes. I have tried hard to think it not worth remembering, but I cannot make so little of it. His hand was trickling down with blood as he said to me, ‘Then I hope that I may never kill him!’ ”