“Oh, if you don’t hate me, say just one word!” she sobbed. “I am so ashamed, but you said you loved me. Oh, Fitz, it’s not like you to be so unkind! And I thought you would be glad to know.”
Surely he must answer now?—but she sobbed on, and there came no word of comfort.
“Well, Miss North, and what’s all this about?” said Dr Tighe.
He stood at the door, looking in at her, and Mabel sprang to her feet and confronted him, shaking with sobs, her face stained with tears.
“It’s—it’s only—I was speaking to him, and he won’t answer,” she managed to say.
“But I told you he wouldn’t. He can’t. Why, he doesn’t even hear you.”
“I thought I could make him hear.”
“As well try to wake the dead. No, no; what an idiot I am!” as she recoiled from him in terror. “Purely a figure of speech, nothing more. Now I will take a turn of watching, and do you go and get some rest.”
“Oh no, I won’t leave him. I am not a bit tired.”
“Go to Mrs North. She can’t sleep either, and she and her ayah have got some coffee for you. It will soon be daylight, and you had better rest while you can.”