It is stopping already, I think.

What a mockery! Whilst it lasts I suppose I am really sorry.

And yet, would I restore her to life if I could?
Perhaps so; I am therefore thankful that I cannot." He folded his arms on the rail and gravely addressed the dead figure, which still affected him so strongly that he had to exert his will to face it with composure.

"If you really loved me, it is well for you that you are dead--idiot that I was to believe that the passion you could inspire, you poor child, would last.

We are both lucky; I have escaped from you, and you have escaped from yourself." Presently he breathed more freely and looked round the room to help himself into a matter-of-fact vein by a little unembarrassed action, and the commonplace aspect of the bedroom furniture.