Francis William Lauderdale Adams

“ Then, before I scarcely knew what had happened, except a tightened effort of her body in my arms, she had ceased struggling.
I looked at her face: looked long, and at last, wildly. I shook her gently; lowered my arm to shake her again. Her head fell back with upward, staring eyes. I thought, She is dead, she is dead. What did it mean? No ... No ...
I gathered her close in my arms, kissing her warm, pure throat, talking to myself; and let both of us lie back in the soft pillows, I with my cheek on her warm, pure breast. Ah, better to sleep now without more words; better to sleep! ”

“ She began to cough, and went on for a little. Then:
'Don't you think,' she said, 'that good people go up to heaven when they die?'
'Don't talk any more in this way!' I said, getting up and sitting on the bed by her, 'or I shall—Well, I shall have to stop you some way.' And I put my arm round her shoulders, and drew her head to mine. ”

“ We talked of the dear hours in the past, and of the dearer that were to be in the future—by snatches; for her cough was almost ceaseless, and, it seemed to me, more violent than last night. She had, apparently, forgotten about the story.
But, as the night wore on, she became worse. I had great trouble to get her to take the inhalation. She kept up the low moaning all the time, as she had done on the first night; occasionally, too, sitting up as before, with her chin on her knees, and the lower parts of her hands turned round in her eyes. ”

“ Now and then she fell asleep, but the low moaning did not cease, except when she muttered incoherently.
The slow hours passed. I must have dozed. I awoke with a start. She was struggling violently, I saw that, and her swollen, livid face, and eyes strangely prominent with strange, clear brightness. Then I knew that she wanted me, and, in a moment, was across the bed, with one arm round her body and the other loosening her nightdress at the throat ”

“ I found the doctor's house, and the doctor; and brought him to see her. He reported a bad cold, cautiously adding that he would come again and see her on Saturday. (This was Wednesday) . I accompanied him down to the hotel door. I rather liked his face: he had a little gold light in his eyes somewhere, perhaps only something to do with the sun there. I asked him one or two questions about her which he answered simply. She had caught a bad cold: that was clear. Perhaps it was nothing more: perhaps again it was; perhaps even it might develop into congestion of the lungs. ”

“ The doctor came in the afternoon again. Further directions were given, and he left us, saying that he would leave the prescriptions at the chemist's as he went home. By tea-time everything was ready. Rosy had throughout remained quiescent, except that, as she was coming into the house, she noticed some red daisies in the bed under the window, and plucked one, saying: 'A pretty thing!' and for a moment stood looking at it, while I stood looking at her. ”