have its laws, and must
protect itself. And, somehow, that Peace is not what I want. It is being
alive at all that is wrong.

"Then there is this difficulty. I know how absolutely in agreement you
are with this new state of affairs; of course you are, because you are
so much stronger and more logical than I am. But if you have a wife she
must be of one mind with you. And I am not, any more, at least not with
my heart, though I see you are right.... Do you understand, my dear?

"If we had had a child, it might have been different. I might have liked
to go on living for his sake. But Humanity, somehow--Oh! Oliver! I
can't--I can't.

"I know I am wrong, and that you are right--but there it is; I cannot
change myself. So I am quite sure that I must go.

"Then I want to tell you this--that I am not at all frightened. I never
can understand why people are--unless, of course, they are Christians. I
should be horribly frightened if I was one of them. But, you see, we
both know that there is nothing beyond. It is life that I am frightened
of--not death. Of course, I should be frightened if there was any pain;
but the doctors tell me there is absolutely none. It is simply going to
sleep. The nerves are dead before the brain. I am going to do it myself.
I don't want any one else in the room. In a few minutes the nurse
here--Sister Anne, with whom I have made great friends--will bring in
the thing, and then she will leave me.

"As regards what happens afterwards, I do not mind at all. Please do
exactly what you wish. The cremation will take place to-morrow morning
at noon, so that you can be here if you like. Or you can send
directions, and they will send on the urn to you. I know you liked to
have your mother's urn in the garden; so perhaps you will like mine.
Please do exactly what you like. And with all my things too. Of course I
leave them to you.

"Now, my dear, I want to say this--that I am very sorry indeed now that
I was so tiresome and stupid. I think I did really believe your
arguments all along. But I did not want to believe them. Do you see now
why I was so tiresome?

"Oliver, my darling, you have been extraordinarily good to me.... Yes, I
know I am crying, but I am really very happy. This is such a lovely
ending. I wish I hadn't been obliged to make you so anxious during this
last week: but I had to--I knew you would persuade me against it, if you
found me, and that would have been worse than ever. I am sorry