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After the Storm by T. S. (Timothy Shay) Arthur
page 96 of 275 (34%)
painful events of the past few days began to reveal themselves to
her consciousness.

"And where is Hartley?" This question followed as soon as all grew
clear. Sleep had tranquilized her state, and restored a measure of
just perception. Stepping from the bed, she went from the room and
passed silently down stairs. A light still burned in the parlor
where she had left her husband some hours before, and streamed out
through the partly opened door. She stood for some moments,
listening, but there was no sound of life within. A sudden fear
crept into her heart. Her hand shook as she laid it upon the door
and pressed it open. Stepping within, she glanced around with a
frightened air.

On the sofa lay Hartley, with his face toward the light. It was wan
and troubled, and the brows were contracted as if from intense pain.
For some moments Irene stood looking at him; but his eyes were shut
and he lay perfectly still. She drew nearer and bent down over him.
He was sleeping, but his breath came so faintly, and there was so
little motion of his chest, that the thought flashed through her
with an electric thrill that he might be dying! Only by a strong
effort of self-control did she repress a cry of fear, or keep back
her hands from clasping his neck. In what a strong tide did love
rush back upon her soul! Her heart overflowed with tenderness, was
oppressed with yearning.

"Oh, Hartley, my husband, my dear husband!" she cried out, love,
fear, grief and anguish blending wildly in her voice, as she caught
him in her arms and awoke him with a rain of tears and kisses.

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