I asked him if it contained any amusing reading.
"I really do not know," he answered, indifferently, "I have only just bought it.

It is by Victor Hugo." And he held up the title-page for me to see.
"Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamne," I read aloud with careful slowness.
"Ah, indeed! You do well to read that.

It is a very fine study!" The train was on the point of starting, when he leaned out of the carriage window and beckoned me to approach more closely.
"Remember!" he whispered, "I trust you to take care of her!" "Never fear!" I answered, "I will do my best to replace YOU!" He smiled a pale uneasy smile, and pressed my hand.

These were our last words, for with a warning shriek the train moved off, and in another minute had rushed out of sight.

I was alone--alone with perfect freedom of action--I could do as I pleased with my wife now! I could even kill her if I chose--no one would interfere.