union; how could the bond still be so strong if he were not at the other
end of it? He was there, her other part; until dead he must be living.
There was no intermediate state. Why should he be as entombed and
unresponding as if the screws were in the lid? But the faintly beating
heart did not quicken beneath her lips. She extended her arms suddenly,
describing eccentric lines, above, about him, rapidly opening and
closing her hands as if to clutch some escaping object; then sprang to
her feet, and went to the window. She feared insanity. She had asked to
be left alone with her dying husband, and she did not wish to lose her
reason and shriek a crowd of people about her.

The green plots in the yards were not apparent, she noticed. Something
heavy, like a pall, rested upon them. Then she understood that the day
was over and that night was coming.

She returned swiftly to the bedside, wondering if she had remained away
hours or seconds, and if he were dead. His face was still discernible,
and Death had not relaxed it. She laid her own against it, then withdrew
it with shuddering flesh, her teeth smiting each other as if an icy wind
had passed.

She let herself fall back in the chair, clasping her hands against her
heart, watching with expanding eyes the white sculptured face which, in
the glittering dark, was becoming less defined of outline. Did she light
the gas it would draw mosquitoes, and she could not shut from him the
little air he must be mechanically grateful for. And she did not want to
see the opening eye--the falling jaw.

Her vision became so fixed that at length she saw nothing, and closed
her eyes and waited for the moisture to rise and relieve the strain.