The Spring of the Tiger Author:Victoria Holt At last I slept and dreamed that hands were about my neck strangling me. They were soft hands, lustrous hands; they had begun by caressing me, soothing me and then suddenly they pressed closer and closer. I could not breathe, I started up in terror. My hands went to my throat. I was touching the pearls. — Of course it was the pearls which had... more » made me dream.
What nonsense to have made me wear them as I slept. But I saw his point and it was characteristic of him. He had wanted me to wear the pearls because he had known that I hated to. He had made me wear them while he had taken me against my will. They were a symbol of his power over me...a halter that is put about the neck of a slave.« less