"You say me!" said the wife, holding tight to the hand that clasped hers. "Why do you not say that the room—let it be what it will—is large enough for us both, husband? I say you did not mean that it will not hold your wife too."
The old man turned away from those earnest eyes; he could not bear the look of mingled terror and entreaty that filled them.
"Remember, Wilcox, we have not spent one night apart in thirty years!"
"I know it," answered the old man with quivering lips.
"And now will you let me stay with you?"
"Ask him," said the old man, turning his face away, "ask him!"
She let go her hold of the prisoner's hand with great reluctance, and went up to the officer.
"You heard what he said, you must know what I want. We have lived together a great many years, more than your whole life. We have had trouble—great trouble, but always together. Tell me—can we stay together yet?"
"I do not know," said the man, deeply moved. "Your husband is charged with a crime that requires strict prison rules."