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"What is it, dear?" asked her hus
band, coining around the table to her.
"Jim's dead, Tom. Poor old Jim.
Look at this letter from this man.
It's roughly written and the spelling
isn't up to much, but it shows some
body did care for Jim, doesn't it?"
"You cared for him once, Polly,"
said Tom Raymond, holding her and
letting her cry in his arms.
I "Not really, dear. I thought I did.
But I know now that it was only pity
for him. I wanted to mother him,
Tom. The poor boy wasn't bad, he
just never had a chance, with all his
money. Poor old Jim, dying out there
all alone!"
Polly and her husband had been
back from their honeymoon two
weeks, and, as everybody knows, the
first honeymoon is only the prelude
to the real one, which lasts all life
long. The moment that she met Tom
she knew that her former love for Jim
Syrett had been the vainest of, vain
things.
Yet she had never ceased to re
proach herself for what she called her J
ncmeness. sne naa known of the
boy's wild attachment toward herself
and that if any one could, have kept
him straight it was she. And then
"Tom, dear," she said, rubbing her
cheek against his own, "I remember
something now which I had totally
forgotten. I had the strangest and
most dreadful dream the other night.
And it must have been just at the
time when Jim lay dying. It comes
back to me now so vividly.
"I seemed to be lying somewhere in
space. There was nothing around
me, and, although I was fully con
scious of my own existence I seemed
to have no body. And then it came
to me that this was that place, or con
dition, where dismembered souls col
lect, awaiting their summons either
to heaven or to to some of many
other possible destinations, Tom.
f "Then, as I stood there, I seemed
to realize that Jim was with me. He
was very much astonished at finding
me there. ,
J " Tvhy, Polly,: he said, 'don't you
know that you are not to pass over
for nearly a year more?'"
"I was so terrified I did not know
what to do or how to answer him.
" 'Yes, Polly,' he said, 'your time on
earth will be up a year from next
week. Unless
"And here his voice became so
vague and indistinct that I could un
derstand nothing. When I heard him
again, he was telling me how he died.
" 'I wanted you ever since I knew
you, Polly, dear,' he said. 'And I am
going to have you for my very own,
through all eternity.'
" 'That will never happen, Jim,' I
answered.
"'Oh, yes, it will,' he said, 'and,
more than that, you will be glad. Re
member, a year from next week.' "
Tom Raymond frowned impatient
ly. "Of course, it may have been some
sort of inner perception that Jim waB
dying," he answered. "I have no
doubt such things are possible. But
in dreams they become blurred and
distorted, and one must never rely
on such nonsense. Lose you in a
year's time, indeed!' I'd like to see
myself J"
He kissed away the tears that were
falling freely. But after he had gone
Polly remained for a long time think
ing of the boy who had died in such
a lonely fashion upon the mountains.
111.
The house was strangely silent
Upstairs there was no sound at all;
downstairs only that of the man who
tramped slowly "backword and for
ward In his library.
Mercifully he had forgotten his
wife's prediction. He was conscious
only of that agony of soul that comes
when one's dearest is wrestling with
death.
The doctor came Into the room,
and Tom Raymond spun round and
faced him.
"Tell me the truth!" he cried. "Is
there any hope?"
"Yes," said "the doctor, franklys
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