But ever and anon the lips of the sleeper moved restlessly, and words, low and inarticulate, broke out.

Sometimes he started abruptly, and a bright but evanescent flush darted over his faded and hollow cheek; and once the fingers of the thin hand which lay upon the bed expanded and suddenly closed in a firm and almost painful grasp; it was then that for the first time the words of the artist became distinct.
"Ay, ay," he said, "I have thee, I have thee at last.

Long, very long thou hast burnt up my heart like fuel, and mocked me, and laughed at my idle efforts; but now, now, I have thee.

Fame, Honour, Immortality, whatever thou art called, I have thee, and thou canst not escape; but it is almost too late!" And, as if wrung by some sudden pain, the sleeper turned heavily round, groaned audibly, and awoke.
"My friend," said Clarence, soothingly, and taking his hand, "I have come to bid you farewell.

I am just setting off for the Continent, but I could not leave England without once more seeing you.