It was Adele who stood there, all in white, with sunlight
around her.... I gasped for a moment, and then recovered myself. It was
Adele sure enough, in a white linen riding habit, and morning had come
while I slept. But I knew then that one link at least remained with the
old life.
She tapped upon the window-pane a little imperiously, and I threw open
the sash. Her eyes were fixed upon my face. I think that she, too, saw
the change. With the opening of the window came a rush of sweet fresh
air. She stepped into the room.
"Don't look at me as though I were something unreal!" she exclaimed. "I
told them that I was fond of early morning rides, and I saw your light
burning here from the park. Tell me--is he worse?"
I was suddenly calm. I realized that this was the beginning.
"He is dead," I answered. "He died about midnight."
There was a momentary horror in her face, for which I was grateful--I
scarcely knew why.
"Dead," she repeated softly, "so soon!"
She looked around the room and back at me.
"Turn out the lamps," she said.
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