"Lot," said she, sternly, "this is the last time I will come back.

Once for all, what is it you want of me ?" Lot looked up at her, his face working.

He strove to speak and could not.

He strove again, and his voice was weak and gasping as if the breath of life had almost left him.

"We--had better not be married--to-morrow," he said, with his piteous eyes upon Madelon's face.
She started, and stared at him as if she feared she did not hear rightly.
"I--have been--thinking it over," Lot went on, panting; "I am not as well--we had better wait--until--May.