“I know. Their heads touched again, their arms tightened. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, "You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val, With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "This S wants a little deepening," mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay, that's better. As far as I can, I belong to them all.
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