The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. " "For mercy's sake, go on!" cried Winifred. " "Thank God for that!" ejaculated Mrs. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. She sighed with relief.
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