I had smiled at the story then . What had that grim old bygone to do with springtime and love and Josephine ? But it came back to me now , hand in hand with my fear . Was this fate coming on my dear wife ? It was too horrible for belief . She was so young , so fair , so sweet , this girl-wife of mine . It had been only a bad dream , with a frightened , bewildered waking . So I tried to comfort myself . When she awakened in the morning she did not speak of what had happened and I did not dare to . She seemed more cheerful that day than she had been , and went about her household duties briskly and skillfully . My fear lifted . I was sure now that she had only dreamed . And I was confirmed in my hopeful belief when two nights had passed away uneventfully . Then , on the third night , he dream-child called to her again . I wakened from a troubled doze to find her dressing herself with feverish haste . `` He is calling me , '' she cried . `` Oh , do n't you hear him ? Ca n't you hear him ? Listen -- listen -- the little , lonely cry ! Yes , yes , my precious , mother is coming .
Wait XXXXX me .
So at for from in of on than that with