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English Review, 1911

Page 431 (17 of 19)

ODOUR OF CHRYSANTHEMUMS


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was murmuring incoherently. The old tears fell in succession
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as drops from wet leaves; the woman was not weeping,
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merely her tears flowed. Elizabeth embraced the body of her
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husband, with cheek and lips. Suddenly she felt jealous that
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the mother held his head.

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She rose, went into the kitchen, where she poured warm
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water into a bowl, brought soap and flannel and a soft towel.

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"I must wash him," she said decisively.

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Then the old mother rose stiffly, and watched Elizabeth as
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she gently washed his face, tenderly, as if he were a child, brushing
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the big blonde moustache from his mouth with the flannel.
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The old woman, jealous, said :

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"Let me wipe him !" -- and she kneeled on the other side
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drying slowly as Elizabeth washed, her big black bonnet some-
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times brushing the dark head of her daughter. They worked
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thus in silence for a long time. Sometimes they forgot it was
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death, and the touch of the man's body gave them strange
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thrills, different in each of the women; secret thrills that
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made them turn one from the other, and left them with a
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keen sadness.

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At last it was finished. He was a man of handsome figure
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and genial face, which showed no traces of the disfigurement
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of drink. He was blonde, full-fleshed, with fine round limbs.

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"Bless him," whispered his mother, looking always at his
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face, "he looks as if he was just waking up. Dear lad -- bless
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him!" She spoke in a faint, sibilant rapture.

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Elizabeth sank down again to the floor, and put her face
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against his neck, and trembled and shuddered till she was
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tired. The old woman wept slow, noiseless tears, touching him,
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regarding him with endless fondness and unwearying interest.

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"White as milk he is, clear as a twelve-month baby, bless
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him, the darling !" she whispered to herself. "Not a mark
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on him, clear and clean and white, beautiful as ever a child
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was made," she murmured with pride. Elizabeth kept her face
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hidden.

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"He went peaceful, Lizzie -- peaceful as sleep. Isn't it
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wonderful ? You'd think he was smiling a bit. 'Appen he
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made it all right, Lizzie, shut in there. He'd have time. He
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wouldn't look like this if he hadn't made his peace. He's
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smiling a bit. Eh, but he used to have a hearty laugh. I loved
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to hear it. He's like he was when I had him, Lizzie. The
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heartiest laugh he had ---- "

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Elizabeth looked up. The man's mouth was fallen back,
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slightly open under the cover of the moustache. The eyes,

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