Gerard, who had got alive into that chest scarce five minutes ago, how could he be dead?
She called him by all the endearing names that heart could think or tongue could frame.

She kissed him and fondled him and coaxed him and implored him to speak to her.
No answer to words of love, such as she had never uttered to him before, nor thought she could utter.

Then the poor creature, trembling all over, began to say over that ashy face little foolish things that were at once terrible and pitiable.
"Oh, Gerard! I am very sorry you are dead.

I am very sorry I have killed you.

Forgive me for not letting the men take you; it would have been better than this.