Only a friendly memory--nothing more than that.
She rose noiselessly and came to his side and looked down into his face.

Very long she stood there, motionless as a statue, beautiful as a mourning angel.
It was so little that she asked.

It was so little compared with all she had hoped, or in comparison with all she had demanded, so little in respect of what she had given.

For she had given her soul.

And in return she asked only for one small kindly thought when all should be over.
She bent down as she stood and touched his cool forehead with her lips.
"Sleep on, my beloved," she said in a voice that murmured softly and sadly.
She started a little at what she had done, and drew back, half afraid, like an innocent girl.