hing."

And like one awakening Evelyn told how for days he had fluctuated
between life and death, sometimes waking to consciousness, then
falling back into a trance. In spite of the hopes the doctors had
held out to him he had insisted he was dying.

"'I am worn to a thread,' he said, 'I shall flicker like that candle
when it reaches the socket, and then I shall go out. But I am not
afraid of death: death is a great experience, and we are all better
for every experience. There is only one thing--'

"He was thinking of his work, he was sorry he was called away before
his work was done; and then he seemed to forget it, to be absorbed in
things of greater importance."

Sometimes the wind interrupted the Prioress's attention, and she
thought of the safety of her roofs; Evelyn noticed the wind, and her
notice of it served to accentuate her terror. "It is terror," the
Prioress said to herself, "rather than grief."

"I waited by his bedside seeing the soul prepare for departure. The
soul begins to leave the body several days before it goes; it flies
round and round like a bird that is going to some distant country. I
must tell you all about it, Mother. He lay for hours and hours
looking into a corner of the room. I am sure he saw something there;
and one night I heard him call me. I went to him and asked him what
he wanted; but he lay quiet, looking into the corner of the room, and
then he said, 'The wall has been taken away,' I know he saw something
there. He saw something, he learnt something in that last moment that
we do not know. That last moment is the only real moment of our
lives, the only true moment--all the rest is falsehood, delirium,
froth. The rest of life is contradictions, distractions, and lies,
but in the moment before death I am sure everything becomes quite
clear to us. Then we learn what we are. We do not know ourselves
until then. If I ask who am I, what am I, there is no answer. We do
not believe in ourselves because we do not know who we are; we do not
know enough of ourselves to believe in anything. We do not believe;
we acquiesce that certain things are so because it is necessary to
acquiesce, but we do not believe in anything, not even that we are
going to die, for if we did we should live for death, and not for
life."

"Your father's death has been a great grief to you; only time will
help you to recover yourself."

"Recover myself? But I shall never recover, no, Mother, never, never,
neve