"Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. You must dispose of the goldsmith's note I gave you yesterday, as soon as you arrive at Rotterdam.
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