"It's Mary," said the ghost he saw and feared.
"Oh, you——" he cried. She heard him shake. "Have you come back?"
She fell upon her knees by the bed.
"Yes, Ned."
He reached out a hand to her. It was cold as ice: for the blood had gone to his heart and brain.
"You've come back—to me?"
He knew it was a miracle, and, brutish and besotted as he was, he felt the awful benediction of her presence.
"To me!"
To him, to a man who had cursed her life at its springs, who had given her no joy, who had cut her to pieces by their bed and warm hearth! She had come back.
"If you want me," she murmured.