She was sobbing now.
“Margaret, I can't see—I am blind—blind!”
He felt her fall lax in his embrace. The sobs ceased abruptly.
She was unconscious.
XIII
Franz knew that Margaret must die.
She weakened visibly with the moments that had the single mission—to kill.
He knew but too well what passed before him in his darkened world. He knew that since his blindness, she had sunk through stupor to stupor, each to drag her farther and farther from him.
There were intervals—seconds that might have been ages, when she would sit erect and call his name, but there were no conscious periods.
She was sinking by slow degrees, and the blind man held a dark vigil.