"St.Dunstan's clock is striking now." "Yes," I answered.

"But where is your father ?" "He has gone to bed, poor old dear.

He didn't feel well enough to come, and I did not urge him.

He is really very ill.

This dreadful suspense will kill him if it goes on much longer." "Let us hope it won't," I said, but with little conviction, I fear, in my tone.