Explore "The Red Saint" by Warwick Deeping on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Denise slipped slowly to her knees, still leaning the weight of her body against the trunk of the tree. The languor of death seemed upon her, but her eyes could still meet Aymery's, brown eyes swimming with the death mist, and growing blind to the sunlight. The man's shocked face, and his outstretched hands were the last things that she remembered.
"Lord, it is better so."