"Why not? I do not care. Better to die than lie here—here, where Richard Luttrell lay. Kitty, they say I cannot be moved while I live; but if—if you believe that I ever loved you, see that they carry me out of this room as soon as I am dead. Promise me that."
"I promise."
"That is all I want. Marry Vivian, and forget me as soon as you please. He will never love you as much as I did, Kitty. If I had lived, you would have loved me, too, in time. But it's no use now."
The voice was faint, but sullen. Kitty's heart yearned over him.
"Oh, Hugo," she said, "won't you think of other things? Ask God to forgive you for what you have done: He will forgive you if you repent: He will, indeed."
"Don't talk to me of forgiveness," said Hugo, closing his eyes. "No one forgives: God least of all."
"We forgive you, Hugo," said Kitty, with brimming eyes, "and is God less merciful than ourselves?"
"I will wait till Angela comes," he answered. "I will listen to her. To nobody but her."
And then he relapsed into a half-conscious state, from which she dared not arouse him.
Angela came at night; and she was led almost instantly to the room in which he lay. He opened his eyes as soon as she entered, and fixed them eagerly upon her.