ODOUR OF CHRYSANTHEMUMS
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They put on their caps and took up the stretcher.
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Stepping over the body, they tiptoed out of the
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house. None of them spoke till they were far from
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the wakeful children.5
When Elizabeth came down she found her mother
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alone on the parlour floor, leaning over the dead man,
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the tears dropping on him. 8
" We must lay him out," the wife said. She
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put on the kettle, then returning knelt at the feet,
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and began to unfasten the knotted leather laces.
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The room was clammy and dim with only one
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candle, so that she had to bend her face almost to
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the floor. At last she got off the heavy boots and
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put them away. 15
" You must help me now," she whispered to the
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old woman. Together they stripped the man. 17
When they arose, saw him lying in the naïve
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dignity of death, the women stood arrested in fear
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and respect. For a few moments they remained
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still, looking down, the old mother whimpering.
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Elizabeth felt countermanded. She saw him, how
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utterly inviolable he lay in himself. She had
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nothing to do with him. She could not accept it.
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Stooping, she laid her hand on him, in claim. He
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was still warm, for the mine was hot where he
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had died. His mother had his face between her
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hands, and was murmuring incoherently. The
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old tears fell in succession as drops from wet leaves ;
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the mother was not weeping, merely her tears flowed.
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Elizabeth embraced the body of her husband, with
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cheek and lips. She seemed to be listening, inquiring,
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trying to get some connection. But she could not.
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She was driven away. He was impregnable.
