‘You said she was beautiful. ‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. There are boats on the lake and shady depths and wildernesses of pine-wood. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself.
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