He was quite
old, shaky, infirm, and yet strong enough to consummate the final act
of his infinite wickedness. And Dale saw those yellow-white hands,
with their nauseating blotches, their glistening blue knobs, and their
jeweled rings, as they took possession again of the victim to whom
they had once given freedom.
Daylight was coming fast; the flame of the candles had turned so pale
that one could scarcely see it. Dale got off the bed heavily and
clumsily, blew out one of the candles and carried the other to the
fireplace. There he lighted the corners of the three bank-notes and
watched them burning in the empty grate till nothing was left of them
but black and gray powder. Then he put on his hat and moved to the
door.
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
Blindly raging, he passed through the silent, deserted streets, and
presently blundered into Regent's Park. It was all exquisitely pretty
in the pure morning light, with dew-wet grass, feathery branches of
trees, and the water of a river or lake flashing and sparkling; and as
he stared stupidly about him, he thought for a moment that he was
experiencing an illusion of the senses. Or was he a boy again safe in
his forest? This sort of thing belonged to the happy past, and could
have no proper place in the abominable present.
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