"He!" she said, "I never thought of that. It—seems very strange. I could not imagine his going from place to place—or living a busy life—or suffering much. He was so simple and so quiet."
"I thought of him," she went on, "because he was a good man—a good man—and there was no one else in the world. As the end came I grew restless—I wanted to—to try——"
But there her eyes closed and she forgot herself again.
"What was it you wanted to try to do?" he asked gently.
She roused herself, as before, with a start.
"To try," she said,—"to try to do something for the girl."
He did not understand what she meant until she had dragged herself up upon the pillow and leaned forward touching him with her hand; she had gathered all her strength for the effort.
"I am an outcast," she said,—"an outcast!"
The simple and bare words were so terrible that he could scarcely bear them, but he controlled himself by a strong effort.