“You have been very kind to me,” she said. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. "I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. ’ To his intense satisfaction, mademoiselle burst into laughter. " A deep indignant groan followed. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour.
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