said, "that is enough. But I wanted to make sure." He knelt down by her side and kissed her hands.
"It is not every one," she said, "who can say—as I can say—I have found perfect happiness and perfect love. I think of that, and forget everything else. Good-bye. You will come again—soon?"
"Soon," he said.
In the hall he met a man, drunken, not ill-featured, but of evil expression. He reeled past Sacheverell with a dull stare, and groped his way up the staircase, bawling:—
"It is not mine to sing the stately grace,
The sweet soul shining in my lady's face.
Not mine in glo-glorious melodies— —"
It was George Christian. And it was for him to close her eyes in death.