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Mr. Naird to return, but rendered her insensible to his re-appearance. She flung off her bandages, rent open her wound, and tore her hair; calling, screaming for death, with agonizing wrath. "Is it for this," she cried, "I have thus loved—for this I have thus adored the flintiest of human hearts? to see him fly me from the bed of death? Refuse to receive even my parting sigh? Make me over to a dissembling priest?"
Ellis, returning also, urged Mr. Naird, who stood aloof, stedfastly, yet quietly fixing his eyes upon his patient, to use his authority for checking this dangerous violence.
Without moving, or lowering his voice, though Ellis spoke in a whisper, he drily answered, "It is not very material."
"How so?" cried Ellis, extremely alarmed: "What is it you mean, Sir?"
"It cannot, now," he replied, "occasion much difference."
Ellis, shuddering, entreated him to make some speedy effort for her preservation.
