She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. Believe me, Anna. “Why?” He inquired. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you.
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