She sat as moveless as a statue. His voice sounded far away. It was very strange too, and yet it was very familiar.
"Not dead?"
"No. There can be no doubt about it. He died, but he has risen again."
A strange feeling possessed her heart. She was not sure whether it was an overmastering joy, or a terrible fear. Perhaps it was both. But the news was also a great shock, and the room seemed to swim around her.
"But, but," she stammered presently, "how do you explain—the—the, that is——"
"How do I explain the coroner's inquest, and all that was associated with it? I will tell you. It is darker than I thought. Will you light the lamp?"
Like one in a dream she did as she was bidden. Her hand trembled so that she could scarcely hold the match to the wick of the lamp; but she succeeded at length, and the mellow light filled the room.
"There," she said, and she tried to laugh, "I have managed to do it. But tell me you are jesting with me."
"No, I am not jesting. Look at me."
She turned to him as he spoke, but she was powerless to speak a word.