retained the consciousness of one subject so long.

"Yes--dear," she whispered.

"Your old apron is all wet!" he said reproachfully, touching her
breast where the blood--his own blood--was slowly drying.

His hand passed on, and as it touched her, I saw her eyes soften
into such a wonderful tenderness that I felt as if I were looking on
a part of Sister's life which was sacred.

I saw a little movement as if to draw back, then she resolutely held
her position. But her eyes were dull with a new pain. I wonder--I
have wondered ever since--what memories that poor senseless wreck of
a man was arousing in the woman's heart by his wandering touch.

"Marny," he said, "Marny. It was not TOO hard waiting for me?"

"No, dear."

"It will be all right now, Marny. The bad part is all past."

"Yes."

"Marny, you remember--the night--I left--Marny--I want--no--no, your
LIPS."

I knelt suddenly, and slipped my hand within his shirt, for I saw
something in his face.