Not that I
say he did," she added hastily. "His little fun wouldn't be the cause
of harm to me as is used to his ways, but maybe he'll be after thinking
so. It's the fever I have, from poor living, and maybe from being so
long without Tim and worrying the heart out of my body for him, and he
there in jail. Only if you'll promise to let him go, you and the sweet
lady that very likely didn't know his pleasant ways when he had a drop
too much, you'd make it easier dying without him."
She gasped out her words as if every syllable were an effort, her eyes
appealing with a wildness which touched his heart. The girl went to the
bed and leaned over, taking in hers the thin, withered hand.
"There, there, Mrs. Murphy," she said, "of course the gentleman'll do
it. He couldn't have the heart to resist your dying prayer."
"I am ready to do all I can, Mrs. Murphy," Philip stammered, struggling
with his conscience to promise as much as he could; "and I'll see Mrs.
Fenton. I'm sure she won't wish to have anything done that you would
not like."
The sick woman burst into weak tears, stammering half inarticulate
blessings.
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