Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/321

Rh gone; unwarmed, unwelcomed, and unfed. He had come, the lonely ghost, for human sympathy and love, and he had gone back to his cold grave without it. He had bent above her head, yet never touched her, for fear of frightening her. She moved her hand upon her hair, and found it dewed with his tears. She heard her neighbour’s dog drag on his chain and howl again. She ran to the door and flung it wide—only the darkness. She would never see him again; she would never have the courage, even if he came.

She flung herself, face downwards, in the grass before her door—and the clock in the room behind her struck twelve.