Her hair streamed over the pillow in white , uncared-for tresses , and the hands that plucked at the bed-clothes were like wrinkled claws . Only her eyes were unchanged ; they were as blue and brilliant as ever , but now filled with such agonized terror and appeal that Mr. Leonard 's gentle heart almost stood still with the horror of them . They were the eyes of a creature driven wild with torture , hounded by furies , clutched by unutterable fear . Naomi sat up and dragged at his arm . `` Can you help me ? Can you help me ? '' she gasped imploringly . `` Oh , I thought you 'd never come ! I was skeered I 'd die before you got here -- die and go to hell . I did n't know before today that I was dying . None of those cowards would tell me . Can you help me ? '' `` If I can not , God can , '' said Mr. Leonard gently . He felt himself very helpless and inefficient before this awful terror and frenzy . He had seen sad death-beds -- troubled death-beds -- ay , and despairing death-beds , but never anything like this . `` God ! '' Naomi 's voice shrilled terribly as she uttered the name . `` I ca n't go to God for help . Oh , I 'm skeered of hell , but I 'm skeereder still of God . I 'd rather go to hell a thousand times over than face God after the life I 've lived .
I XXXXX you , I 'm sorry for living wicked -- I was always sorry for it all the time .
'm come despairing driven dying go sat tell thought uttered