But always the interminable thin whispering in the back of her head
went on and on. "Oh, if he had only died four years ago! Oh, if he had
only died the dear, clean-minded, honest boy I used to know! When that
noise stops he will be dead. And then, perhaps, I shall be able to
cry. Oh, if he had only died four years ago!"
And then
da capo
. On and on ran the interminable thin whispering as
Margaret waited for death to come to Billy. Billy looked so old now,
under his many bandages. Surely he must be very, very near death.