"It's no use, Steve, dear," she said; "I'm done for. Don't worry with a doctor. I shall be gone in five minutes."
Stephen dropped on his knees and seized the little soft brown hand extended to him, covering it with kisses.
"Oh no, no, don't say it," he said in a voice suffocated with anguish, heedless of the staring faces around. Some of the mob looked on with interest, some turned back to their own tables, others went down on their hands and knees to scrape up the scattered gold dust that had mixed in the trampled sawdust.
"Lay me a little flatter," she murmured to Talbot, and he sank on one knee and so supported her, her head resting on his arm.
"If we could get her to the air," Stephen exclaimed.
"No, the moving pains me; let me be," she replied. "I tell you I'm dying."
Stephen groaned.
"Pray then, pray now. Oh, Katie dear, pray before it is too late. Aren't you afraid to die like this, in this place?"
Katrine shook her head wearily. "No, I don't think I've ever been afraid," she murmured.
"Did I kill him?" she asked a second later, opening her eyes.