It was as if dead.

He loosed the ribbon that was round the neck, he tore open the checked shirt-- The story of Myrtle Hazard's sex was told; but she was deaf to his cry of surprise, and no blush came to her cold cheek.

Not too late, perhaps, to save her,--not too late to try to save her, at least! He placed his lips to hers, and filled her breast with the air from his own panting chest.

Again and again he renewed these efforts, hoping, doubting, despairing,--once more hoping, and at last, when he had almost ceased to hope, she gasped, she breathed, she moaned, and rolled her eyes wildly round her, she was born again into this mortal life.
He caught her up in his arms, bore her to the house, laid her on a sofa, and, having spent his strength in this last effort, reeled and fell, and lay as one over whom have just been whispered the words, "He is gone.".