If she cared to think about the last time Phineas had been so close to her bed she would realize it was what had put her where she was and she might very well rage at him to leave. That was not what was going through her head at present though. He hadn't taken her hand. Perhaps he hadn't noticed it. She moved it so he might notice it and take a hint from her upturned palm. "This might be the last time we speak then." Suddenly the desire to squeeze every last failed expectation from her marriage out of him here and now seemed overwhelming. Surely he would respect her deathbed wishes and oblige her?

Ursula willed him to discover some romantic impulse buried deep within him and to unleash it upon her. Let him get down on his knees and praise her beauty even in death. Would that he would take her hands in his and weep for her loss and declare long suppressed love for her. She wanted him to howl and curse the world for separating them so soon, make promises that should she survive that he would cherish her. Even some kind, vaguely sentimental words might just be enough.

"There are things we must speak of before it's too late..." There were genuinely things she wanted to say, things similar to what she'd put into letters for others, but first she wanted him to take that as a cue to unload his secret feelings for her or really anything that she could twist into something resembling affection.

---