He clasped her hand in assent; he could not deny her.
“I shall come in and stay with you to-night,” he said simply.
“You. Why should you?”
“Because I too love him.”
Her mouth trembled and the lines of her face quivered, but she drew her hand quickly over it.
Kemp gave one sharp glance over to the bed; Ruth had laid her head beside her father’s and held his hand. In such a house, in every Jewish house, one finds the best nurses in the family.
Chapter XXV
Shafts of pale sunlight darted into the room and rested on Mr. Levice’s hair, covering it with a silver glory,—they trailed along the silken coverlet, but stopped there; one little beam strayed slowly, and almost as if with intention, toward Arnold, seated near the foot of the bed. Ruth, lovely in her pallor, sat near him; Mrs. Levice, on the other side of the bed, leaned back in her chair placed close to her husband’s pillow; more remote, though inadvertently so, sat Dr. Kemp. It was by Mr. Levice’s desire that these four had assembled here.
He was sitting up, supported by many pillows; his face was hollow and colorless; his hands lay listlessly upon the counterpane. No one touches him; bathed in sunlight, as he was, the others seemed in shadow. When he spoke, his voice was almost a whisper, but it was distinctly audible to the four intent listeners; only the clock seemed to accompany his staccato speech, running a race, as it were, with his failing strength.