She came forward, her eyes heavy with sleep, but they were bright too with an immense joy.
"Can you wait up a little longer, sister?" said Father Jervis.
"He wants us both to hear what he has to say."
"Why, of course."
She sat down on the other side of the bed.
Still the sounds from outside went on—the footsteps and the voices and the bells. They were beginning to ring for the Easter morning service in the Abbey; and still, within this room, was this air of silence and remoteness.
"Now, listen carefully," said the dying man. . . .