"Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. “No, he grabbed my hand. ” “On the contrary,” Anna whispered quietly, “we met in a small boarding-house where I was stopping. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ‘Might have forgiven him,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘if he hadn’t taken the babe. Killed is too kind a word. ” The brutality of his first astonishment was evaporating.
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