e's space across the dial; and once more she
turned to pace the floor.

Her lips had lost almost all their colour now; they moved, muttering
tremulous incoherences; the outline of every feature grew finer,
sharper, more spiritual, but dreadfully white.

Later she found herself on her knees beside the couch, face buried in
the cushions, her small teeth marking her wrist again--heard herself
crying out for somebody to help her--yet her lips had uttered no sound;
it was only her soul in its agony, while the youthful, curved body and
rigid limbs burnt steadily in hell's own flames.

Again she raised her head and lifted her white face toward the clock.
Only a minute had crept by, and she turned, twisting her interlocked
hands, dry-eyed, dry lips parted, and stared about her. Half stupefied
with pain, stunned, dismayed by the million tiny voices of temptation
assailing her, dinning in her senses, she reeled where she knelt, fell
forward, laid her slender length across the hearth-rug, and set her
teeth in her wrist again, choking back the cry of terror and desolation.

And there her senses tricked her--or she may have lost
consciousness--for it seemed that the next moment she was on the stairs,
moving stealthily--where? God and her tormented body seemed to know, for
she caught herself halfway down the stairs, cried out on her Maker for
strength, stood swaying, breathless, quivering in the agony of it--and
dragged herself back and up the stairs once more, step by step, to the
landing.

For a moment she stood there, shaking, ghastly, staring down into the
regions below, where relief lay within her reach. And she dared not even
stare too long; she turned blindly, arms outstretched, feeling her way
back. Every sense within her seemed for the moment deadened; sounds
scarcely penetrated, had no meaning; she heard the grille clash, steps
on the stair; she was trying to get back to the library, paused to rest
at the door, was caught in two strong arms, drawn into them:

"Duane," she whispered.

"Darling!"--and as he saw her face--"My God!"

"Mine, too, Duane. Don't be afraid; I'm holding firm, so far. But I am
very, very ill. Could you help me a little?"

"Yes, child!--yes, little Geraldine--my little, little girl----"

"Can you stay near me?"

"Yes! Good God, yes!"

"How long?"

"As long as you want me."

"Then I can get through with this. I think to-night decides.... If you
will remain with me--for a while----"