“I have scarcely left his side. ’ Hilary stared. She would end alone. He will be some time in this comatose state. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. He must win this man's confidence, even at the risk of being called mad. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. I think he got sick of us and he disappeared not one week later.
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