Perhaps it was only some remote and subtle turn of the tide of life and death which chanced to come to his aid.
"Emily!" he said again, after many times.
Dr.Warren at this moment met the lifted eyes of the doctor who was counting her pulse, and in response to his look went to him.
"It seems slightly stronger," Dr.Forsythe whispered.
The slow, faint breathing changed a shade; there was heard a breath slightly, very slightly deeper, less flickering, then another.
Lady Walderhurst slightly stirred.
"Remain where you are," whispered Dr.Warren to her husband, "and continue to speak to her.

Do not alter your tone.

Go on." * * * * * Emily Walderhurst, drifting out on a still, borderless, white sea, sinking gently as she floated, sinking in peaceful painlessness deeper and deeper in her drifting until the soft, cool water lapped her lips and, as she knew without fear, would soon cover them and her quiet face, hiding them for ever,--heard from far, very far away, across the whiteness floating about her, a faint sound which at first only fell upon the stillness without meaning.

Everything but the silence had been left behind aeons ago.

Nothing remained but the soundless white sea and the slow drifting and sinking as one swayed.