“Why is my wife at your sister’s house?”
“God pity the poor soul, she had no other place to die in! For Christ’s sake, go and say a loving word to her.”
“Where has she been all this time? Tell me that, sir.”
“Dying slowly in the public hospital at Glasgow.”
“My God!”
“There is no time for words now; not a moment to spare. Go to your wife at once.”
“She left me of her own free will. Why should I go to her now?”
“She did not leave you; she was driven away by devilish cruelty. And oh, man, man, go for your own sake then! To-morrow it will be too late to say the words you will weep to say. Go for your own sake. Go to spare yourself the black remorse that is sure to come if you don’t go. If you don’t care for your poor wife, go for your own sake!”
“I do care for my wife. I wished—”
“Haste you then, don’t lose a moment! Haste you! haste you! If it is but one kind word before you part forever, give it to her. She has loved you well; she loves you yet; she is calling for you at the grave’s mouth. Haste you, man! haste you!”