At ten o'clock she heard his voice in the kitchen . She leaned out of the bed and pulled open her door . She heard voices below , but could not distinguish the words , so she rose and went noiselessly out into the hall , knelt down by the stair railing and listened . The door of the kitchen was open below her and a narrow shaft of light struck on her white , intent face . She looked like a woman waiting for the decree of doom . At first John and Amelia talked of trivial matters . Then the latter said abruptly : `` Did you hear how Stephen Fair was ? '' `` He 's dying , '' was the brief response . Emily heard Amelia 's startled exclamation . She gripped the square rails with her hands until the sharp edges dinted deep into her fingers . John 's voice came up to her again , harsh and expressionless : `` He took a bad turn the day before yesterday and has been getting worse ever since . The doctors do n't expect him to live till morning . '' Amelia began to talk rapidly in low tones . Emily heard nothing further . She got up and went blindly back into her room with such agony tearing at her heartstrings that she dully wondered why she could not shriek aloud . Stephen -- her husband -- dying ! In the burning anguish of that moment her own soul was as an open book before her . The love she had buried rose from the deeps of her being in an awful , accusing resurrection . Out of her stupor and pain a purpose formed itself clearly . She must go to Stephen -- she must beg and win his forgiveness before it was too late .
She dared not go down to John and ask him to take her XXXXX her husband .
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