He held out his hands appealingly, helplessly; but the gesture was lost upon her blindness.
“Promise.”
“It is impossible.”
“Man, man, have you ever loved any one but yourself? Have you never stood on the edge of the world—and looked over—over into darkness? I cannot go to it—with this thing stifling me. Stephen, I ask you, if you have ever loved me, do me this last mercy.”
He walked to and fro with a quick, rigid step, and paused at the far end of the room, feeling the air hot and poisonous, and the blood drumming at his temples.
“I am to sacrifice myself, Nan. You ask that?”
She propped herself upon the pillow, her head swaying slightly from side to side.
“I ask you not to face your God, Stephen, with more blood upon your hands.”
He cried out at her with bitterness.
“Woman, woman, what can I do?”