"Nina," and the voice was so low that Nina bent her down to catch
the sound, "I am dying, darling. You are not afraid to stay with
me till the last?"
"No," she answered, "not afraid, but I do so wish you could see
the splendid illumination. Twenty candles and fifteen lamps--the
wicks of them all an inch in height. Oh, it's grand!" and again
Nina chuckled as she saw how the lurid blaze lit up the window
panes with a sheet of flame which, flashing backward, danced upon
the wall in many a grotesque form, and cast a reddish glow even
upon the white face of the dying.
He was growing very restless now, for the last great struggle had
commenced; the soul was waging a mighty battle with the body, and
the conflict was a terrible one, wringing groans of agony from him
and great tears from Nina, who forgot her bonfire in her grief.
Once when the fever had scorched her veins and she had raved in
mad delirium, Dr. Griswold had rocked her in his arms as he would
have rocked a little child, and remembering this the insane desire
seized on Nina to rock him, too, to sleep.
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