Page:Wadsworth Camp--the gray mask.djvu/77

Rh His lips, a moment ago masterful with unreasoning vitality, no longer troubled her.

"Freddy!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry—"

He crumpled at her feet.

Near the water, spilled from the vase of roses, a darker stain spread.

She screamed.

"What's the matter? Freddy! I'm sorry— Say something— Pray!"

She stumbled to her knees by the dead man. Her desolate cries fled ceaselessly through the open window.