the last supper painting

the last supper painting
more to my heart, as I do now; and kissed her, as thus- and felt
that she loved me, and trusted that she would not leave me.'
'Which I never will, sir, from this day.'
'Never will, says the vision? But I always woke and found it an
empty mockery; and I was desolate and abandoned- my life dark, lonely,
hopeless- my soul athirst and forbidden to drink- my heart famished
and never to be fed. Gentle, soft dream, nestling in my arms now,
you will fly, too, as your sisters have all fled before you: but
kiss me before you go- embrace me, Jane.'
'There, sir- and there!'
the last supper painting
I pressed my lips to his once brilliant and now rayless eyes- I
swept his hair from his brow, and kissed that too. He suddenly
seemed to arouse himself: the conviction of the reality of all this
seized him.
'It is you- is it, Jane? You are come back to me then?'
'I am.'
'And you do not lie dead in some ditch under some stream? And you
are not a pining outcast amongst strangers?'
'No, sir! I am an independent woman now.'
'Independent! What do you mean, Jane?'
'My uncle in Madeira is dead, and he left me five thousand pounds.'
the last supper painting