The fatality hangs over _my_ head no longer.

I shall bury the unburied dead; I shall fill the vacant place in Wincot vault; and then--then the new life, the life with Ada!" That name seemed to recall him to himself.

He drew his traveling desk toward him, placed the packet of letters in it, and then took out a sheet of paper.

"I am going to write to Ada," he said, turning to me, "and tell her the good news.

Her happiness, when she knows it, will be even greater than mine." Worn out by the events of the day, I left him writing and went to bed.
I was, however, either too anxious or too tired to sleep.