"Louis, do you think I've been wrong? I remember I said something to
Kraill about not wanting to die, though it seemed worlds away then. And
he said: 'It seems to me that you take too much on yourself. Are you
the ultimate kindliness of the world?' Perhaps it will be better for
Andrew if I'm not there--Oh, but that's morbid!"
"It is," he said decidedly. "And you're not going to die--"
She broke in quickly: "Just think if this had happened last year! I'd
have been frantic for fear of leaving you and Andrew. Why, I would never
have dared to go to the hospital, for fear of what might happen to you
while I was there. And now I'm not a bit afraid of that."
"Then don't be afraid at all. Look here, let's talk as if you're not my
Marcella at all, dear. Let's talk as if you were someone we're both keen
about. Can't you see that you're in very little danger, really? You're
so young, and so tremendously hard--"
She tried to make him think she was reassured, but a little later the
fear cropped out again.
"If I die," she said quietly, "what are you going to do? No, don't look
miserable about it. I'm miserable enough for two of us, goodness knows.
But people have been known not to wake up after an operation, haven't
they?"
"Just as they've been known to be run over by a taxi," he said.
"Yes.
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