The
details were arranged; all her cunning had gone to the contrivance
of a plot for disguising the facts of his murder. Savagely she had
exulted in the prospect, not only of getting rid of him, but of
being revenged for her old humiliation. A thousand times she
imagined herself in Bob's lurking-place, raising the weapon,
striking the murderous blow, rifling the man's pockets to mislead
those who found his body, and had laughed to herself triumphantly.
Joseph out of the way, the next thing was to remove Pennyloaf. Oh,
that would easily have been contrived. Then she and Bob would have
been married.
Very long since Clem had shed tears, but she did so this day when
there was no longer a possibility of doubting that Bob was dead. She
shut herself in her room and moaned like a wild beast in pain.
Joseph could not but observe, when he came home, that she was
suffering in some extraordinary way. When he spoke jestingly about
it, she all but rushed upon him with her fists. And in the same
moment She determined that he should not escape, even if she had to
murder him with her own hands. From that day her constant occupation
was searching the newspapers to get hints about poisons.
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