It was a man shame-stricken and
determined to kill the devil in him that went down that long
avenue--so he thought.
A tall, thin woman was standing some twenty yards off, among some
holly-trees. She kissed her hand mockingly to him, and beckoned and
laughed when he stood irresolute. He thought he heard her cry, "Too
stout!" He took some fierce steps towards her. She ran on, looking
over her shoulder, and he forgot all else and followed her. She darted
into the flower-garden, pulling the gate to after her. It was a gate
that locked when it closed, and the key was gone. Lady Pippinworth
clapped her hands because he could not reach her. When she saw that he
was climbing the wall she ran farther into the garden.
He climbed the wall, but, as he was descending, one of the iron spikes
on the top of it pierced his coat, which was buttoned to the throat,
and he hung there by the neck. He struggled as he choked, but he could
not help himself. He was unable to cry out. The collar of the old
doctor's coat held him fast.
They say that in such a moment a man reviews all his past life. I
don't know whether Tommy did that; but his last reflection before he
passed into unconsciousness was "Serves me right!" Perhaps it was only
a little bit of sentiment for the end.
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