Will you come ?" She shook her head, crying out sharply: "No! no!" Then before something in his face her opposition melted swiftly away, and she added: "Yes, I'll come.

He might like to have some one by him who knew him as he used to be." "After all, he got the worst of it, poor devil!" he answered gently as he opened the door.
By a miracle of memory her resentment was swept out of her thoughts, and she was conscious of an infinite pity.

In George's face, while she watched it, there flickered back for an instant the glory of that enchanted spring when she had first loved him.

Of his brilliant promise, his ardent youth, there remained only this fading glimmer in the face of a man who was dying.

And it seemed to her suddenly that she saw embodied in this wreck of youth and love all the inscrutable mystery not of death, but of life.