“So that if I were to say ...”
“If you say ‘come,’ I am ready.“
“Now?”
“This very minute. I would take my baby in my arms....“
Pepa, vehement in her devotions, looked first at the house and then in his face; forgetful of every other consideration, she could think of nothing but the two beings she loved. Leon was going through a brief but agonising struggle. He stamped with his foot like the Warlocks of old when they wanted to call up a familiar spirit.
“But I must bid you let me go alone, and wait, and hope,” he said at length, with a firmness that was almost heroic, and Pepa bowed her head with resignation. “I say it because I love you—out of a certain selfishness too, for I cannot bear to destroy a beautiful dream.”
“I submit,” said Pepa, but the word was hardly more than a moan, and hiding her face on his breast, she sobbed aloud. Then she added: “but you will fix a time. If I were to die before....”
This idea of an early death was fixed in her mind like a sinister star that nothing could eclipse.
“Yes, I will fix a time. I promise that.”
“And when it comes....”