"Mr. Driscoll is waiting for me," she said, in a voice that was weaker and less forcedly steady. She had not changed her position all the time she had spoken. Her arms now dropped to her side, and she moved back ever so little.
"I hope ... you'll be happy ... always," she said.
"Yes ... and I hope you...."
"Good-by."
"Good-by."
Their eyes held steadfastly to each other for a moment; she seemed to waver, and she caught the back of a chair; then she turned and went out....
For long he watched the door out of which she had gone; then, heedless of the pain, he rolled over and stared at one great poppy in the back of the couch.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: