“Who are you?” he whispered.
Mrs. Taylor quavered, “I’ve come to bring the Truth to you.”
Mullendore looked at her, uncomprehending.
Teeters thrust himself in the sick man’s line of vision and elucidated:
“Feller, I’m sorry to tell you you ain’t goin’ to 'make the grade'—they’s no possible show fur you—an’ Mis’ Taylor here, who’s a personal friend, you might say, of all the leadin’ sperrits in the Sperrit World, has come to kind of prepare you—”
Mullendore’s lips moved with an effort:
“There ain’t nothin’ after this.”
“Oh, my!” Teeters ejaculated in a shocked voice. “Don’t say heathen things like that! If you’d seen half of what I’ve saw you couldn’t nowise doubt.”
“There ain’t no hell—there ain’t no comin’ back.” The voice was stronger, and querulous.
Teeters wagged his head in horrified reproach.