Mrs Marks was a hard woman, but she wiped her eyes with her apron. "He's been here so long, you see," she explained.
Peters protested against the doctor. It was a foolish expense, if he was certain to die.
"I've got a little put by—yes, that's true. But it's all to go to Elsa, you see, and I don't want any of it wasted."
The blinds were drawn in order that he might not be excited by seeing the felling of the tree; but he could hear the work going on, though he pressed his thin hands to his ears.
As the sun shone in at his window one morning, and he lay awake in bed, a big, swift shadow swept across the blind, and then came a deafening crash.
Peters half raised himself in bed, one hand on his heart. His voice came in a whisper, "My God!"
He sank quite gently back again on the bed, and did not move.