Then, with a mighty effort she arose, and with a step which
this time did not falter, went and stood before Richard, who was
beginning to look troubled at her protracted silence. He knew she
was near him now, he could hear her low breathing, and he waited
anxiously for her to speak.
Edith's face was a study then. Almost every possible emotion was
written upon it. Fear, anguish, disappointed hopes, cruel longings
for the past, terrible shrinkings from the present, and still more
terrible dread of the future. Then these passed away, and were
succeeded by pity, sympathy, gratitude, and a strong desire to do
right. The latter feelings conquered, and sitting down by Richard,
she took his warm hand between her two cold ones, and said to him,
"'Tis the twelfth of May to-night, did you know it?"
Did he know it? He had thought of nothing else the livelong day,
and when, early in the morning, he heard that she was sick, a sad
foreboding had swept over him, lest what he coveted so much should
yet be withheld. But she was there beside him.
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