She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. " "Will you be taking a pole-chair?" "If that's the racket. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. “Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. "I'll see. He found, however, that now the time had come he utterly lacked the courage to attempt any such speech. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl.
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