This time she was indeed beaten. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. That’s— that’s my private life. In the first place there were not so many suitable advertisements as she had expected. I seek chaos, but not out of choice. She went to the post-office and drew out and sent off her money to Ramage. She approached Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me.
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