Never had she experienced such a feeling of happiness.

Now she even succeeded in moving her lips, and the man, who still held
her little burning hand clasped in his first heard his own name very
faintly uttered; then her parched lips almost inaudibly repeated the
exclamation: "Too late!" and again, "Too late!"

The next instant she pressed her left hand upon her panting breast. The
rosy hue around her blended with the red tint of the pinks, and another
haemorrhage bore the restless wanderer to that goal where every mortal
journey ends.