The only mercy you can show me is to kill me. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ‘I doubt very much whether they are yours at all. ‘That I do not yet know. ‘You wish to tell me something? Parbleu, I have nearly forgot once more. ” And thus it was that as Ann Veronica neared the gates of home, she said to herself: “I’ll have it out with him somehow.
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