The girl who had watched by the curtain stepped softly inside the room
. . . . she divined his purpose. He was so intent he did not hear.

"I will do it," he said to himself. "It is better to go than to stay.
I have never done a good thing for love of any human being. I will do
one now."

He turned towards the window through which the sunlight streamed.
Stepping forward into the sun, he uncorked the bottle.

There was a quick step behind him, and the girl's voice said clearly:

"If you go, I go also."

He turned swiftly, cold with amazement, the blood emptied from his heart.

Rosalie stood a little distance from him, her face pale, her hands held
hard to her side.

"I understand all. I could not go outside, I stayed there"--she pointed
to the other room--"and I know why you would die. You would die to save
others."

"Rosalie!" he protested in a hoarse voice, and could say nothing more.

"You think that I will stay, if you go! No, no, no--I will not. You
taught me how to live, and I will follow you now."

He saw the strange determination of her look. It startled him; he knew
not what to say. "Your father, Rosalie--"