"Yes."
"Only me?"
"Only you."
He burst into a passion of tears.
"Forgive me for having doubted you," he said hoarsely.
"Did you ever doubt me?"
"Yes, once. I ought to have known better. I can't forgive myself. Forgive me, my wife."
Cuckoo was silent. Death was hard upon her, heavy on voice and breath.
"Say, 'Arthur, I forgive you,'" whispered her husband through the darkness.