225 “Sebastianus. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. "See her I will.
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