The nurse shook her head.
“Can anything be done to make it easier?” Lucilla said then.
“No, my dear. I’ve sent messages for the doctor and Mr. Clover, but——”
Her face completed the sentence.
They remained motionless, Adrian’s irregular sobs and the Canon’s heavy breathing alone cutting intermittently across the silence.
Quentillian never knew how long it was before Canon Morchard opened his eyes and spoke, articulating with great difficulty.
“All safe—all happy ... verily, all things work together for good!”
He smiled, looking straight across at Owen Quentillian, and suddenly said with great distinctness:
“Mors janua vitæ!”
Owen could hear the cry still, ringing through the room, in the time of dumb struggle that followed.