When he went back his mother was sleeping calmly. Hollyer and the nurse withdrew from the bedside to the window and talked there in low voices.
“Yes. We can get her through, between us, if we make up our minds she’s to live. Think of what she was yesterday.”
“But do you think we ought to? I don’t want her brought back to suffer.”
“She isn’t going to suffer. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t be as well as ever. If you want her to live.”
“Want her? Of course I want her to live.”
“I know you do. But you must get rid of your fear.”
“Do you think my fear could—could make her?”
“I know it could. Make up your mind with me that she’s going to get well.”
“Supposing she wants to go? Supposing she’s fighting against us all the time?”
“She isn’t fighting. She hasn’t any fight in her— Now, while she’s sleeping, is the time. You’ve only got to say to yourself ‘She shall live. She’s going to live.’ There—you sit in that chair, make yourself quite comfortable, shut your eyes, and keep on saying it. Don’t think of anything else.”
He sat down. He said it over and over again: “She shall live. She’s going to live. She shall live—” He tried to think of nothing else; but all the time he was aware of the dragging of his heart. He shut his eyes, but he couldn’t get rid of the vision of Effie. Effie sitting in his mother’s place. Effie sleeping beside him in the big bed.
“She _shall_ live. She’s going to live.” The words meant nothing. Only the dragging weight at his heart had meaning. And it didn’t lie.
He thought: If that’s how I feel about it, I’d better keep my mind off her.
Then he was aware that he was tired, dead beat, too tired to think. And presently, sitting upright in the chair, he fell asleep.
He was waked by Nurse Eden’s voice calling to him from the bed: “Mr. Hollyer! She’s going!”
His mother lay in the nurse’s arms, her head had fallen forward on her chest, her mouth was open; and through it there came a groaning, grating cry. Once, twice, three times; and she was gone.
After the funeral Hollyer went up into his mother’s room. Nurse Eden was there, removing the signs of death. She had covered the bed with a white counterpane. She had opened the door and window wide, and a flood of dean cold air streamed through the room.
