She regarded him with a faint, fluttering heart, the faintest impress of
a smile on her beautiful face.
Was it possible that happiness was in store for her in the near future?
Even while these thoughts filtered through her brain he spoke again.
"Poor Iris, she will no longer suffer."
"Your sister?"
"Yes; she died to-night."
"That is terrible."
"And yet it is best so. Insanity is far worse than death; at any rate it
seems so to me," he said solemnly and slow. "And now, dear Rose, I have
but one request to make. If we could only be married before this trial I
should feel doubly strong to face the world."
She opened her lips to reply, but the words were drowned in their
inseption by the crash of feet in the hall.
Swiftly the man sprang across the carpet and turned the key in the lock,
just as a hand shook the door, and a loud voice demanded admittance.
CHAPTER XXVII.
A DEMON'S DEED.
"My presence here has been discovered," he whispered hoarsely. "What
shall we do?"
He had seemingly forgotten his determination to face the world and fight
for his life as a man should.
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