Rita was standing vigil over her husband's deathbed. 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," he whispered.

"Hush, my love," she said. "Go back to sleep. Shhh. Don't talk."

But he was insistent. "Rita," 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 Rita. "It's all right. Everything's all right, go to sleep now."

"No, no. I must die in peace, Rita. I slept with your sister, your best friend and your mother."

Rita mustered a pained smile and stroked his hand. "Hush now dear, don't torment yourself. I know all about it," she said.

"Now you be still, and let the poison work."