“Why should anybody ever die?—even Carlota!”
“Ah!—her hour had come!”
“Can you set one’s hour as one sets an alarm clock?”
Kate paused.
“And if you’re not sure of yourself, what are you sure of?” she challenged.
He looked at her with dark eyes which she could not understand.
“I am sure—sure—” his voice tailed off into vagueness, his face seemed to go grey and peaked, as a dead man’s, only his eyes watched her blackly, like a ghost’s. Again she was confronted with the suffering ghost of the man. And she was a woman, powerless before this suffering ghost which was still in the flesh.
“You don’t think you are wrong, do you?” she asked, in cold distress.
“No! I am not wrong. Only maybe I can’t hold out,” he said.
“And then what?” she said, coldly.