"It's inconceivable," he cried. "I can't believe it, I won't believe
it. You poor, poor thing!"
"It's true. She's gone. My little girl is gone. I could curse God."
She spoke in a low, emotionless voice. "Why should He have taken
her in this way? What have we done to deserve this cruelty? Why
couldn't He have let her die in my arms, with her head upon my
breast,--where it belongs?"
"Don't give up--yet," he stammered, confounded by this amazing
exhibition of self-control. "There is a chance,--yes, there is a
chance, Mrs. Vick. Don't give up. Be--be brave."
She shook her head. "She is dead," came from her stiff lips, and
that was all.
He laid his arm across her shoulder. "I wish to God it was me instead
of her," he cried fervently. "I would take her place--willingly,
Mrs. Vick."
"I--I know you would, Courtney," said she, looking into his eyes.
"You were her best friend. She adored you. I know you would,--God
bless you!"
He looked away. His gaze fell upon Alix, standing in the door. His
eyes brightened. The hunted expression left them. An eager, hungry
light came into them. She was staring at him. Gradually he came to
the realization that she was looking at him with unspeakable horror.
Mrs. Vick was speaking. He hardly heard a word she uttered.
"It was kind of you to come, Courtney. Thank you. I must go now.
I--I can't stand it,--I can't stand it!"
She left him abruptly.
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