ABBIE: Wednesday night, about eight o'clock, about an hour after she told me to telegraph you, she said, "Why, Abbie, I believe I'm going to die." I said no, but she said, "I think so." I said we'd send for Mr. Norris. She said no, and not to frighten her father. I -- I didn't think she was going to die. All the time I was trying to get the doctor. There were two hours when she was -- quiet. Quiet -- not like any quiet I ever knew. Thinking. You could see thinking in her eyes -- stronger than sickness. Then, after ten, she called me to her. She took my hands. She said, "Abbie, you've lived with me all my life." "Yes," I said. "You love me." "Oh, yes," I said. "Will you do something for me?" "You know I will," I told her. "Abbie," she said, looking right at me, all of her looking right at me, "if I die, I want you to tell my husband I killed myself." I thought it was her mind. But I looked at her, and oh, her mind was there! It was terrible -- how it was all there. She said -- and then she [The sobs she has been holding back almost keep ABBIE from saying this] -- held out her hands to me -- "Oh, Abbie, do this last thing for me! After all there has been, I have a right to do it. If my life is going -- let me have this much from it!" And as still I couldn't -- couldn't -- the tears ran down her face and she said, "I want to rest before pain comes again. Promise me so I can rest." And I promised. And you would have too!