the notch on the ax and on being found out-第74部分

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the　skeleton　leaps　from　the　cupboard　of　my　memory；　the　icy　hand
which　lies　ever　near　my　soul　grips　it　suddenly　with　a　chill
shudder。　　Not　for　nothing　was　that　wretched　woman's　life　interwoven
with　my　own；　if　only　for　an　hour；　not　for　nothing　did　my　spirit
harbor　a　conflict　and　an　agony；　which；　thank　God；　are　far　from　its
own　story。　　Though　Margaret　Mervyn's　dagger　failed　to　pierce　my
flesh；　the　wound　in　my　soul　may　never　wholly　be　healed。　　I　know
that　that　is　so；　and　yet　as　I　turn　to　start　through　the　sunshine　to
the　cedar　shade　and　its　laughing　occupants；　I　whisper　to　myself
with　fervent　conviction；　〃It　was　worth　it。〃





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