"Show me," he said; "show me where she is."
He still heard the knell of it—"Dying!" He heard it as the lonely figure in the darkness rose:
"Thank you, I am grateful."
The familiar voice knocked at his heart.
"Mrs. Baines has told me you are ill. I am grieved to learn how ill you are."
"It doesn't matter. It was good of you to come; I thought you would. I—I have prayed to speak to you again!"
"It wasn't much to ask," he said; "I—am human."
He could see that she trembled painfully. He indicated the chair that she had left, and drew one closer for himself. Then for a minute there was silence.
"Do you hate me?" she said.
He shook his head. "Should I have come to tell you so?"