" All day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts. The blood will rest on your head. As to Thames, though deeply and painfully affected by the horrible occurrence that had marked his return to his old friends, he was yet able to control his feelings, and devote himself to the alleviation of the distress of the more immediate sufferers by the calamity. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. Those are all nice things, but it’s not what I want. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. ‘I should never have told you. John picked it up and put it in her hands.
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