Murphy was standing vigil over her husband's death bed.
As she held his hand, her warm tears ran silently down her
face, splashed onto his face, and roused him from his slumber.
He looked up and his pale lips began to move slightly. "My
darling Kathleen, " he whispered. "Hush, my love,"
she said. "Go back to sleep. Shhh, don't talk."
But he was insistent. "Kathleen," he said in his
tired voice. "I have to talk. I have something I must
confess to you." "There's nothing to confess,"
replied the weeping Kathleen. "It's all right. Everything's
all right, go to sleep now."
"No, no. I must die in peace, Kathleen. I slept with
your sister, your best friend, and your mother." Kathleen
mustered a pained smile and stroked his hand. "Hush
now Patrick, don't torment yourself. I know all about it,"
she said. "Why do you think I poisoned you?"