Look at him George, and thee will be satisfied.
Burroughs looked up, and saw by the vacant gravity of his hard visage, that the man had not understood a syllable to their prejudice.
But Elizabeth—I would have her continue on earth, I say—I would—if so it may please our Father above; but I am in great fear, and I would have thee tell her so, after she has read what I have written there in that book. She will have sympathy, whatever may occur to us—true sympathy, unmixed with fear; but as for me, I have no such hope—and why should I wrestle with my duty—I—who have no desire to see the light of another day?
None Rachel?
None—but for the sake of Mary Elizabeth Dyer—and so—and so George, we are to part now—and there—therefore—the sooner we part, the better. Her voice died away in a low deeply-drawn heavy breathing.
Even so dear—even so, my beloved sister—
George—
Nay, nay—why leave me at all?—why not abide here? Why may we not die together?
George, I say—
Well—what-say?