D. H. Lawrence's 'Odour of Chrysanthemums'

"Is he -- is it bad?" she asked.

The man nodded and turned away, looking at the garden:

"The doctor says 'e'd been dead hours. 'E saw 'im i' th'
lamp cabin."

The old woman, who stood just behind Elizabeth, dropped
into a chair, and folded her hands, crying: "Oh, my boy, my boy."

"Hush!" said Elizabeth, with a sharp twitch of a frown.
"Be still, mother, don't waken th' children: I wouldn't have
them down for anything!"

The old woman moaned softly, rocking herself. The man
was turning away. Elizabeth took a step forward.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Well, it wor this like," the man replied, very ill at ease.
" 'E wor finishin' a stint, an' th' butties 'ad gone, an' a lot o'
stuff come down atop 'n 'im."

"And is he much -- has it made a mess of him?" asked the
widow, with a shudder. She dreaded most of all at this moment
that he should look ghastly; she felt she could not stand it.

"No," said the man, "it fell at th' back on 'im. 'E wor
under th' face, tha sees, an' it niver touched 'im. It shut 'im
in. 'E wor smothered."

Elizabeth shrank back with a low cry. The thought of it
was like a weapon against her life. She heard the old woman
behind her say:

"What?--did 'e say 'e was suffocated?"

The man replied, more loudly: "Yes--that's 'ow it wor!"

Then the old woman wailed aloud, and this calmed Elizabeth.

"Oh, mother," she said, putting her arms round the old
woman, "don't waken th' children, don't waken the children."

She wept a little, while the old woman rocked herself and
moaned. Elizabeth did not think of it--she did not think of
him. She only thought that they were bringing him home,

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