She quickly strangled him with the piano wire as he looked at her, his lips open as if to scream, but his larynx had been intentionally sliced. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. Her tone was icy. She could not part with dignity. THIS, this glissade, would be damned scoundrelism. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. ” It was settled.
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