She would forgive him for this moment of delirium on the brink
of the grave, but he must be reasonable.
"I am ready to die, now, dearest," he murmured.
She slowly lifted her lips to his in a long kiss--a kiss that thrilled
body and soul--and pressed into his mouth a tiny piece of tissue paper.
She stood holding both his hands for a moment and hesitated, glancing at
the guard from the corner of her eye. He was watching with steady
stolid business-like stare. She must play her part to the end carefully
and boldly.
"I've only this moment just to say good-bye, Boy," she faltered. "I
promised not to stay long." Slowly her arms stole round his neck, and
the blood rushed to his face in scarlet waves.
"Love has made death glorious, dearest," he breathed tenderly. "God
bless you for coming, for all you have done for me, and for all this
holy hour means to my soul--you understand."
The tears were streaming down her cheeks now. The plan might fail after
all--the gallows was there in the jail yard lifting its stark arms in
the lowering sky. She pressed his hands hysterically:
"Yes, yes, I understand."
She turned and hurried to the guard:
"Take me out quickly. I'm going to faint. I can't endure it."
The guard caught her arm, supporting her as she made her way to the
street.
In fifteen minutes she had returned to the dressmaker's and from there
called another carriage and went home.
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