Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. I hate what I am. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. . It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him.
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