Suddenly Annie came flying across the yard crying, half mad: "Paul--Paul--she's gone!" In a second he was back in his own house and upstairs.

She lay curled up and still, with her face on her hand, and nurse was wiping her mouth.
They all stood back.

He kneeled down, and put his face to hers and his arms round her: "My love--my love--oh, my love!" he whispered again and again.

"My love--oh, my love!" Then he heard the nurse behind him, crying, saying: "She's better, Mr.Morel, she's better." When he took his face up from his warm, dead mother he went straight downstairs and began blacking his boots.
There was a good deal to do, letters to write, and so on.

The doctor came and glanced at her, and sighed.
"Ay--poor thing!" he said, then turned away.