That was all she knew, or remembered, for an hour, as she lay there on the sofa, biting the cushions.

It would have been far easier to kill Veronica, than to let him go.

It was not her conscience that suffered, but her heart, and it could suffer still.
It would have been worse, had that been possible, if she had known what Bosio felt at that moment.

Happily for her, she never knew.

For in the midst of the life-and-death terror of the situation, he was conscious that he rejoiced at being unexpectedly free at last from the slavery of her power.