She would have been less than human and a woman, had she refused, with her heart all seething with conflicting emotion on account of the love she bore this man, that would not down even when she knew him guilty of deception and fraud—perhaps of murder.
He bent and imprinted a kiss upon her cold cheek, held her hand a moment in a hot clasp, then turned to go.
A step sounded near.
Someone was approaching.
"Go! while it is yet time," urged the maiden in a thrilling whisper.
But he seemed unable to move just then.
"My mother; how does she bear up?"
"Bravely."
"She is used well?"
"Very well, indeed."