Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a
candlelight vigil by his side. She held his fragile hand, tears
running down her face. Her praying roused him from his slumber. He looked up and
his pale lips began to move slightly. "Becky my darling," he whispered.
"Hush my love," she said. "Rest, don't talk." He was insistent. "Becky," he said in his tired
voice, "I have something that I must confess."

Becky,"everything's all right, go to sleep."

"No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I ... I slept
with your sister, your best friend, her best friend and your
mother!" "I know, my sweet one"whispered Becky, "Rest and relax, let the poison
work".