She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. “I remember it very well indeed. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. It means so much from one as 179 beautiful as you. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. “No, she just worries that I’ll go Satanic and start chomping the heads off of bats and mice or something.
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