Let my fingers stay in yours--so." The candles burned down in their sockets, the wind rose to greater furies, and died away only as the dawn broke through the storm clouds.
A pale light stole into the room.

Still the woman slept, and still her fingers seemed to keep their clutch upon his hand.

Her breathing was all the time soft and regular.

Her silky black eyelashes lay motionless upon her pale cheeks.

Her mouth--a very perfectly shaped mouth--rested in quiet lines.