Isabel Ostrander,
The Twenty-Six Clues — Chapter 12
(1919)
“ Then the cause of his delirium changed. A softer expression stole over his worn features, a faint smile of ineffable pathos hovered about his lips and he murmured so softly that the words were scarcely audible: "Mais je t'aime! It cannot harm thee for thou wilt never know. In thy divine pity and kindliness thou art as blind as I to the worship in my heart which I may not speak! Only to myself may I whisper thy dear name. Evelyn! Evelyn!" McCarty stiffened in his chair. Terhune had been right! ”
