Chapter XXXVI

by William Somerset Maugham

　　The next week was dreadful. Stroeve went twice a day to thehospital to enquire after his wife, who still declined to seehim; and came away at first relieved and hopeful because hewas told that she seemed to be growing better, and then indespair because, the complication which the doctor had fearedhaving ensued, recovery was impossible. The nurse was pitifulto his distress, but she had little to say that could consolehim. The poor woman lay quite still, refusing to speak, withher eyes intent, as though she watched for the coming of death.It could now be only the question of a day or two;and when, late one evening, Stroeve came to see me I knew it wasto tell me she was dead. He was absolutely exhausted.His volubility had left him at last, and he sank down wearilyon my sofa. I felt that no words of condolence availed, and Ilet him lie there quietly. I feared he would think itheartless if I read, so I sat by the window, smoking a pipe,till he felt inclined to speak."You've been very kind to me," he said at last. "Everyone'sbeen very kind.""Nonsense," I said, a little embarrassed."At the hospital they told me I might wait. They gave me achair, and I sat outside the door. When she becameunconscious they said I might go in. Her mouth and chin wereall burnt by the acid. It was awful to see her lovely skinall wounded. She died very peacefully, so that I didn't knowshe was dead till the sister told me."He was too tired to weep. He lay on his back limply, asthough all the strength had gone out of his limbs, andpresently I saw that he had fallen asleep. It was the firstnatural sleep he had had for a week. Nature, sometimes socruel, is sometimes merciful. I covered him and turned downthe light. In the morning when I awoke he was still asleep.He had not moved. His gold-rimmed spectacles were still onhis nose.