But between one and two o'clock Christian awoke. He did not move, but his wife, looking at him, saw his eyes open, and an indescribable difference in his aspect which made her heart leap, for she knew that his mind had awakened also, for that one last recognition that she had so longed for. She said nothing, however, but brought a few spoonfuls of wine and gave to him. He took them, watching her silently all the while, but not seeming fully to recognize her until she came and knelt down at his side, taking his cold hand in hers. Then he smiled, and turning a little towards her, said "Mary!"
She could not answer, but she bent her head down for a moment upon the hand she held.
"You have been here before?" he went on. "I remember seeing you. You have forgiven me, then?"
"Quite. Think of other things now."
"I can't think of anything except that I must be dying, and that I am glad you are here."
"I have been near you all the while you have been here; I shall not leave you again."
"No, not again—it will be such a little while, and I cannot hurt you now. Have you been happy?"
"Sometimes. I had our child."
"Where is she?"
"Here. She was tired and has fallen asleep."