Her brain became a chaos, a perfect hell of distorted imaginations.
Then out of its turmoil and confusion rose a vision and a desire; a vision of peace and a desire for rest.

But what rest was there for her except the rest of death?
Well, why not die?
God would forgive her, the Mother of God would plead for her who was shamed and broken-hearted and unfit to live.

Even Dirk would think kindly of her when she was dead, though, doubtless, now if he met her he would cover his eyes with his hand.

She was burning hot and she was thirsty.

How cool the water would be on this fevered night.