I spoke--merely a word, to call his attention.
His glassy eyes and his ashy face were alight in an instant with pleasure, gratitude, gladness, welcome: "Oh, Sandy, you are come at last--how I have longed for you! Sit by me--do not leave me--never leave me again, Sandy, never again.
Where is your hand ?--give it me, dear, let me hold it--there -- now all is well, all is peace, and I am happy again--_we_ are happy again, isn't it so, Sandy?
You are so dim, so vague, you are but a mist, a cloud, but you are _here_, and that is blessedness sufficient; and I have your hand; don't take it away--it is for only a little while, I shall not require it long....

Was that the child ?...
Hello-Central!...

she doesn't answer.

Asleep, perhaps?
Bring her when she wakes, and let me touch her hands, her face, her hair, and tell her good-bye....

Sandy! Yes, you are there.