She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. But it was now too late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter, he ventured after his conductor. O'Higgins followed him into the dining room. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. Knock on the partition if you want anything during the might.
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