AUDR. (_motioning MICHAEL_). Why didn't you come when I sent for you? MICH. I've only known this moment. Why didn't you send before? AUDR. I sent you hundreds--of messages--from my heart of hearts. Didn't you get them? MICH. Yes--every one. AUDR. I've crawled all over Europe after you. And you aren't worth it--Yes, you are. You wouldn't come---- MICH. Yes--anywhere--anywhere--take me where you will. AUDR. You know--he's dead. I'm free. MICH. Is it so? But it's too late. AUDR. Yes. Pity! Not quite a well-arranged world, is it? Hold my hand. We're not to be parted? MICH. No. AUDR. Sure? MICH. Quite sure. You're suffering? AUDR. No--that's past--(_Shuts her eyes. He watches her._) Very comfortable--very happy--just like going into a delicious faint--(_Sighs._) Do you remember--beautiful sunrise--diamonds on the sea---- MICH. Yes, I remember--all--every moment! And the wind that blew us together when we stood on the cliff! Oh! we were happy then--I remember all! All! All! AUDR. So glad your memory's good at last. (_A vesper hymn heard off at some distance._) Pity to die on such a lovely evening--not quite well-arranged world? But we were happy--if the next world has anything as good it won't be much amiss. I'm going. Fetch--priest--(_MICHAEL is going to door left; she calls him back._) No. No time to waste. Don't leave me. We shan't be parted? MICH. No! No! No! No! AUDR. (_gives a deep sigh of content, then looks up at his mother's picture_). She's there? (_MICHAEL nods._) She'll forgive me! (_Blows a little kiss to the picture._) But I'm your angel--I'm leading you---- MICH. Yes. Where? AUDR. I don't know. Don't fuss about it. "Le bon Dieu nous pardonnera: c'est son métier"--(_Closes her eyes._) Not parted? (_Looks up at him._) MICH. No! No! No! No! AUDR. You won't keep me waiting too long? (_Looks up at him, a long deep sigh of content._) Hold my hand--Tight! tight! Oh! don't look so solemn---- (_Begins to laugh, a ripple of bright, feeble laughter, growing louder and stronger, a little outburst, then a sudden stop, as she drops dead. MICHAEL kisses her lips, her face, her hands, her dress._) _Enter FATHER HILARY._ MICH. Take me! I give my life, my will, my soul, to you! Do what you please with me! I'll believe all, do all, suffer all--only--only persuade me that I shall meet her again! (_Throws himself on her body._) CURTAIN. Printed in the United States of America. MICHAEL AND HIS LOST ANGEL. A New and Original Drama. By HENRY ARTHUR JONES. 16mo. Cloth. 75 cents. PRESS NOTICES.