‘I have not seen them since I saw you. I never see them now, but I am hardly ever in pain now.’
‘It was a pretty fancy,’ said Eugene.
‘But I have heard my birds sing,’ cried the little creature, ‘and I have smelt my flowers. Yes, indeed I have! And both were most beautiful and most Divine!’
‘Stay and help to nurse me,’ said Eugene, quietly. ‘I should like you to have the fancy here, before I die.’
She touched his lips with her hand, and shaded her eyes with that same hand as she went back to her work and her little low song. He heard the song with evident pleasure, until she allowed it gradually to sink away into silence.
‘Mortimer.’
‘My dear Eugene.’
‘If you can give me anything to keep me here for only a few minutes—’
‘To keep you here, Eugene?’
‘To prevent my wandering away I don’t know where—for I begin to be sensible that I have just come back, and that I shall lose myself again—do so, dear boy!’