“I can.”
“God help me!”
“Come with me, and we will together question it further,” said Ada.
“No! No! No!” cried Gray. “The sight would blast me forever. Ada! Ada! If you have one spark of pity, one yearning of heavenly mercy in your heart, you will pray for—me—pray for me!”
“For you—my persecutor?”
“Implore that hideous form to visit here no more. I shall go mad!—Mad!—Mad!”
Gray hid his face in his hands, and groaned bitterly.
“In his anguish he may confess all,” thought Ada, and hastily calling to her memory the words spoken by Maud, she said in a solemn whisper,—
“Jacob Gray, the bleeding form that has visited is not terrible to me.”
“No, no,” said Gray, “because—”