"Hilda," he said, and went to her.
"Yes, dear?"
He took her hand; it lay close and familiarly in his palm.
"Everything seems to be far away from me—except you," he said. "I see you; I hear you speak. What does it mean, my darling?"
Her eyes were full of love. "Don't you know yet, John?" she asked.
"No," he answered slowly; "unless—unless——Hilda, am I dead?"
She did not speak to answer him, but nodded thrice, very slowly.
They found him in his chair before the ashes of the fire. At his feet the mirror was broken across, where it had dropped from his hand. And the lips were parted in a sort of uncertainty.
Cahill & Co., Ltd., London, Dublin and Drogheda.