I remained there silent. On her hands and knees Violet crept towards the foot of the bed. When she had gained the floor she stole on tiptoe to my side.
"I did not dare to step across her." I felt her, as she nestled to me, give me a little shiver. "I could not do it. Can you see her?"
"What a fool I am!" As Violet asked her question there came this observation from the person in the bed — whom, by the way, I could not see. There was a long-drawn sigh. "What fools all we women are! What fools!"
There was a sincerity of bitterness about the tone, which, coming as it did from an unseen speaker — one so near and yet so far — had on one a most uncomfortable effect. Violet pressed closer to my side. The woman in the bed turned over. Overhead there still continued the measured tramp, tramping of the man. We were conscious, in some subtle way, that the woman lay listening to the footsteps. They spoke more audibly to her ears even than to ours.
"Ollie! Ollie!" she repeated the name softly to herself, with a degree of tenderness which was in startling contrast to her previous bitterness.
"I wish you would come to bed."
She was silent. There was only the sound of her gentle breathing. Her bitter mood had been but transient She was falling asleep with words of tenderness upon her lips. Above, the footsteps ceased. All was still. There was not even the murmur of the waters. The wife and I, side by side, stood looking down upon what seemed an empty bed.
