yet to bend her to his purpose, his mad mind had found satisfaction in sending her effigy on errands pleasing to him, frightful to her.
Partly it was in practice of control of the mechanism that he had killed Selby and Kent and the other two; partly also, now I was sure, the murders had been some savage rite in which he imagined he was gaining power over her by enslaving, to his purpose, her effigy.
Some of this, she seemed to discern; for as she stared at him, her manner changed; she choked down her terror and repulsion. A flicker of fiery blood flamed in her cheek. She, if anyone, held power to control him.
When he spoke to her, she replied so as to please him.
"Perhaps, perhaps," tapped the tiny pulse in her temple, "I can yet do something with him."
