'Yes. We two understand each other, and none others can. Now, Mehalah! Glory! you shall not escape me. Glory! will you kiss me?'
He put his hand to her head, and felt it shaken in the negative.
'No. I did not suppose you would. You would kiss George, but not me; but you never shall belong to another but me. Hold up your face, Glory!'
He lifted it with one hand, and peered at it through the haze that ever attended him.
'Glory!' he said. 'Will you swear to me, if I let you go one minute, that you will place yourself here, at my feet, in my hands, as you lie now?'
'Yes.'
'It is dark, is it not? I can see nothing, not your flaming cap. I will let you go. I can trust your lightest word. Go and kindle me a candle.' He relaxed his grasp, and she staggered to her feet, and dully, in a dream obeyed. There was a candle on the chimney-piece, she took it to the hearth in the kitchen and lighted it there. The charwoman was gone.
'Go upstairs,' he said. 'There has been no sound in the house this hour. Go and kiss your mother and come back.'
She obeyed again, and crept lifelessly up the stairs; in another moment he heard a low long muffled wail.
He listened. She did not return.