Allthatdayandthenexthehardlyutteredaword，buttherewasinhiseyesanoticingofeverythingdoneforhim，alookonhisfacewhichtoldherhewasfighting；andshedidnotlosehope。
Hisverystillness，thewayheconservedeverylittlescrapofenergy，showedthetenacitywithwhichhewasfighting。Ittouchedherdeeply；andthoughherfacewascomposedandcomfortableinthesick-room，tearsrandownhercheekswhenshewasoutofit。
Abouttea-timeonthethirdday——shehadjustchangedherdress，keepingherappearancesoasnottoalarmhim，becausehenoticedeverything——shesawadifference。’It’snouse；I’mtired，’waswrittenplainlyacrossthatwhiteface，andwhenshewentuptohim，hemuttered：”SendforSoames。””Yes，James，”shesaidcomfortably；”allright——atonce。”Andshekissedhisforehead。Ateardroppedthere，andasshewipeditoffshesawthathiseyeslookedgrateful。Muchupset，andwithouthopenow，shesentSoamesthetelegram。
Whenheenteredoutoftheblackwindynight，thebighousewasstillasagrave。Warmson’sbroadfacelookedalmostnarrow；hetookthefurcoatwithasortofaddedcare，saying：”Willyouhaveaglassofwine，sir?”
Soamesshookhishead，andhiseyebrowsmadeenquiry。