Theodosia put up her hand and loosened her bonnet strings as if they were choking her . She had been sick with the fear that Wesley would be dead before she got to him . The relief was almost overwhelming . `` But I must see him , '' she cried hysterically -- she , the calm , easy-going Dosia , hysterical -- `` I am his wife -- and oh , if he had died before I got here ! '' The nurse came forward . `` In that case I suppose you must , '' she conceded . `` But he does not expect you . I must prepare him for the surprise . '' She turned to the door of a room opening off the kitchen , but Theodosia , who had hardly heard her , was before her . She was inside the room before the nurse could prevent her . Then she stood , afraid and trembling , her eyes searching the dim apartment hungrily . When they fell on the occupant of the bed Theodosia started in bitter surprise . All unconsciously she had been expecting to find Wesley as he had been when they parted . Could this gaunt , haggard creature , with the unkempt beard and prematurely grey hair and the hollow , beseeching eyes , be the ruddy , boyish-faced husband of her youth ? She gave a choking cry of pain and shame , and the sick man turned his head . Their eyes met . Amazement , incredulity , hope , dread , all flashed in succession over Wesley Brooke 's lined face . He raised himself feebly up . `` Dosia , '' he murmured . Theodosia staggered across the room and fell on her knees by the bed .
She clasped his head XXXXX her breast and kissed him again and again .
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