"Yes darling, yes," says Lawrence faintly. He then tells her in a few words how in despair he had given up everything and gone into the Army and lived only long enough to forgive Beatrice, for that day he had received his death wound in a sharp battle with the enemy.
"And now," he adds, "I shall die happy, and will you remember in after years (for I shall not live to) how here it was our hearts were re-united—once more joined together, here it was I accepted you for my wife, and here it is therefore that Love lies Deepest!"
"Oh my dear!" groans Beatrice heavily, "Lawrence, here is what I was going to have given you at the French Inn," and she presses a pair of gold links into his dying hand.
He smiles back at her and says "keep them darling as a remembrance of me."
Beatrice's only answer is a wild kiss, the last Lawrence will ever receive, the memory of which follows him to Eternity, the next minute he falls back with a groan.
Beatrice stands for a rigid moment and then falls prone beside the bed.
And there is only one in all this wide world who knows for certain if Lawrence Cathcart died a happy death.