“Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power. And yet that could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly. Possessed, at one time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. " "Well, so long as he gets on his feet in the end. . Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved.
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