9. CHAPTER VIII. Don't be frightened of her. “Hello?” She asked as she cradled the phone by her ear. While the strife was raging, Edgeworth Bess walked up to Rachel, and advised her, if she valued her life, not to scream or stir from the spot; a caution which the housekeeper, whose curiosity far outweighed her fears, received in very good part. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished.
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