Her pity and tenderness had carried her far beyond herself, and at the last words she bent her head and kissed him on the lips.
"Who are you?
You are not my mother.

She is dead," he cried, starting up wildly, and looking at her with brilliant eyes.
Betty dropped the fan and rose quickly to her feet.

What had she done?
A terrible thought had flashed into her mind.

Suppose he were not delirious, and had been deceiving her.

Oh! for a hiding-place, or that the floor would swallow her.