Adieu, dear sister, till your next swoon!" This was all that Milady could endure.

Her hands clutched her armchair; she ground her teeth inwardly; her eyes followed the motion of the door as it closed behind Lord de Winter and Felton, and the moment she was alone a fresh fit of despair seized her.

She cast her eyes upon the table, saw the glittering of a knife, rushed toward it and clutched it; but her disappointment was cruel.

The blade was round, and of flexible silver.
A burst of laughter resounded from the other side of the ill-closed door, and the door reopened.
"Ha, ha!" cried Lord de Winter; "ha, ha! Don't you see, my brave Felton; don't you see what I told you?
That knife was for you, my lad; she would have killed you.

Observe, this is one of her peculiarities, to get rid thus, after one fashion or another, of all the people who bother her.