Then from sheer weariness--grief's best friend--he too fell into a light sleep.

From this he was awakened with a start.

Jenny was sitting up and bending over him.

With her dark hair hanging about her face, and in that light, there was something weird and unearthly about her, as though she were already dead and had risen in her shroud.
Something of a shiver went through him, as she put her thin arms round his neck and clutched him in a sudden agony of longing.

All the strength of her poor little body seemed to pass into that kiss, so eager, so convulsive.