"Your duty?"
"Yes. Oh, Mark—Mark, I cannot restore you from the dead, but in the sacred cause of justice I may bring your murderer to the light of day. It is my duty to do so much for your memory."
Ann turned aside to hide her tears. Mr. Orton, too, was much affected, and there was an unwonted jar, as though some false note had had been struck in voice of Sir Richard Blunt as he spoke, saying—
"Miss Oakley, I will not—I cannot deny that by your going back to Todd's house, you may materially assist in the cause of justice. But yet I advise you not to do so."
"I know you are all careful of my safety, while I—"
"Ah, Johanna," said Ann, "you do not know yet that you are so desolate as to wish to die."
"Yes, yes—I am desolate."
"And so," added Sir Richard, "because you loved one who has been, according to your judgment upon the circumstances that have come to your knowledge, torn from you by death, you will admit no other ties which could bind you to the world. Is that right? Is it like you?"
The tones of voice in which these words were uttered, as well as the sentiment embodied in them, sunk deeply into Johanna's heart. Clasping her hands together, she cried—
"Oh, no, no! Do no think me so inhuman. Do not think me so very ungrateful."