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Bennett, Arnold, 1867-1931

"The Matador of the Five Towns and Other Stories"

I would have given anything, made
any sacrifice, to be once more within the human pale, to feel once more
that human life was not going on without me.
There was a knocking below. My wife left that body on the bed, and came
to the window and put her head out into the nocturnal, gas-lit silence
of Trafalgar Road. She was within a foot of me--and I could do nothing.
She whispered: "Is that you, Mary?"
The voice of the servant came: "Yes, mum. The doctor's been called away
to a case. He's not likely to be back before five o'clock."
My wife said, with sad indifference: "It doesn't matter now. I'll let
you in."
She went from the room. I heard the opening and shutting of the door.
Then both women returned into the room, and talked in low voices.
My wife said: "As soon as it's light you must ..." She stopped and
corrected herself. "No, the nurse will be back at seven o'clock. She
said she would. She will attend to all that. Mary, go and get a little
rest, if you can."
"Aren't you going to put the pennies on his eyes, mum?" the servant
asked.
"Ought I?" said my wife. "I don't know much about these things."
"Oh, yes, mum.


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