ong usage so very falsely to call one's own!"

"We will do exactly what you wish, even to the littlest particular, I
promise you--both for Faircloth and for myself," Damaris answered,
forcing herself to calmness and restraint of tears.

He petted her hands silently until, as the minutes passed, she began once
more to grow fearful of that dreadful unknown influence insidiously
possessing him and winning him away. And he may have grown fearful of it
too, for he made a sharp movement, raising his shoulders as though
striving to throw off some weight, some encumbrance.

"There is an end, then, of business," he said, "and of such worldly
considerations. I need worry you with them no more. Only one thing
remains, of which, before I speak to others, it is only seemly, my
darling, I should speak to you."

Charles Verity lifted his eyes to hers, and she perceived his spirit as
now in nowise remote; but close, evident almost to the point of alarm. It
looked out from the wasted face, at once--to her seeing--exquisite and
austere, reaching forward, keenly curious of all death should reveal,
unmoved, yet instinct with the brilliance, the mirthfulness even, of
impending portentous adventure.

"You know, Damaris, how greatly I love and have loved you--how dear you
have been to me, dearer than the satisfaction of my own flesh?"

Speech was beyond her. She looked back, dazzled and for the moment
broken.

"Therefore it goes hard with me to ask anything which might, ever so
distantly, cause you offence or distress. Only time presses. We are
within sight of the end."

"Ah! no--no," she exclaimed, wrenching away her hands and beating them
together, passion of affection, of revolt and sorrow no more to be
controlled. "How can I bear it, how can I part with you? I will not, I
will not have you die.--McCabe isn't infallible. We must call in other
doctors. They may be cleverer, may suggest new treatment, new remedies.
They must cure you--or if they can't cure, at least keep you alive for
me. I won't have you die!"

"Call in whom you like, as many as you like, my darling, the whole
medical faculty if it serves to pacify or to content you," he said,
smiling at her.

Damaris repented. Took poor passion by the throat, stifling its
useless cries.

"I tire you. I waste your strength. I think only of myself, of my own
grief, most beloved, my own consuming grief and desolation.--See--I will
be good--I am good. What else is there you want