"You think it is an offer of wedlock from a churchyard knight," he said.
"What are you talking about, Lot Gordon ?" "Marry me!" "Marry you?
I am going to prison to-day for stabbing you.

If you die, I die for your murder.

Marriage between us?
You are mad, Lot Gordon." Lot Gordon opened his mouth to speak, but he coughed instead.

He half raised himself feebly, and his cough shook the bed.

Madelon waited until he lay back, gasping.
"You are mad to talk so," she said again, but her voice was softer.
"No madder--than--my ancestors made me," Lot stammered, feebly.