There is no question of saving his strength, Mrs. Ponsonby. We have been nursing what is left to him for days, in order that he could lavish it in this interview with you.
Don't try to curb him; let him have his say."
She followed him to a deck cabin almost under the bridge, and stood for a moment at the threshold, to make sure of her composure. There was a narrow brass bed, a chest of drawers, a washstand, and close to the bed a wicker chair, with silk cushions, was drawn up, as if in expectation of a guest.
The head of the bed was toward her, so that she couldn't see Simeon's face, but he heard the rustle of skirts, and called her name, and she made a step forward and sank on her knees beside him.
"Oh, Simeon," she gasped, "how you have suffered! I am so sorry!"
He moved his hand feebly and patted her shoulder, and she, in a passion of pity, carried it to her lips. For the first time she ventured to look at him.
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