The windows were open, but the air was perfectly still, and the gas burnt without a tremor between the windows and the door.
"I'm stifled," the patient gasped. "Are they—doing—all they can—for me?"—Richard tried to reassure him.
"It's all over—with me—Larch—I can't—keep it up long—I'm going—going—they'll have to try—something else."
His lustrous eyes were fastened on Richard with an appealing gaze. Richard turned away.
"I'm frightened—I thought I shouldn't be—but I am. Doctor suggested parson—it's not that—I said no.... Do you think—I'm dying?"
"Not a bit," said Richard.
"That's a lie—I'm off.... It's a big thing,—death—everyone's afraid—of it—at last.... Instinct!... Shows there's something—awful behind it."
If Richard had been murdering the man, he could not have had a sharper sense of guilt than at that moment oppressed him.
Mr. Aked continued to talk, but with a growing incoherence which gradually passed into delirium. Richard looked at his watch. Only thirty minutes had slipped by, and yet he felt as if his shoulder had suffered the clutch of that hot hand since before the beginning of time! Again he experienced the disconcerting sensation of emotional horizons suddenly widened.