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 from me. They took everything away from me. . . She sat upright. Campaspe, on the bed beside her, supported the poor, feeble frame. The Countess was for the moment, apparently, unaware of her presence. . . . Cyril! she cried. You here! You've come back to me! You're sorry you left me? You won't go away again, will you? You'll stay with me now and make me happy! Tony, too! . . . Terror coloured the old woman's tones. . . You've all returned! she shrieked, trying to cover her face with her palms, but lacking the strength to lift her arms. All! Albert! Fernand! Gareth! Edgar! You're all here! Tell them to go away, Campaspe! Tell them to go away!

There, there, dear, be quiet. There's nobody here but me. Campaspe smoothed the sallow, fevered brow. The Countess, exhausted, sank back, her head once more cradled in the pillow. The tears flowed down her cheeks. I tried so hard to be happy, she sobbed. I wanted so much to be happy, only happy. I never did any one harm. But they all went away and left me alone. I cannot bear to be alone. Do you think God will forgive me for desiring just a little happiness?

I'm sure he will, dear. Campaspe continued to stroke the calid forehead.

My God, why have you made me suffer so much? Why have you denied me the happiness that others