"Where is he?" I heard her murmur. "Where is Lister Wilmot?"
The surgeon approached her with a glass.
"You must drink this; it will give you strength to speak."
He lifted her head, and she swallowed it; then turned her face once more toward us.
"Lister, are you there?"
He stood forward, but did not go near her.
"I am here."
She gave a low moaning cry.
Father Maurice went to her.
"Say what you have to say now, my poor sister, and make your peace with God."