You, you were with me!
Even if you never thought of me at all that night you were still with me. And, maybe, you dreamed of me. Men often dream of things that they haven’t been thinking about. And you forgot your dream before you awoke.
The next morning when they came to fetch me, I besought so earnestly that my orchids might stand beside the bed. I submitted calmly to the anæsthetic. While the mask was being drawn over my face I thought of you, and it seemed as if the yellow, dewy petals began to dance over me.
Deeply I breathed in the fragrance, and I felt as if the flowers filled the room. They had increased from a swarm to countless swarms, and become a singing ocean of gold. And in the ocean I saw your eyes. You were with me, even if in thought you did not accompany me, yet you were there.
I woke up and my gaze met yours. My eyes were too tired to see much. Yet I saw the yellow flowers swaying on their stalks. They had come back. They had, with their loving souls, borne me company at the time, and now they had come back. Close to my eyes they seemed to be perpetually singing and making music. Yes, you were with me.
When the pain was most acute it was just as if they flew away, and dispersed at the sound of my groans. I quite understood it. They were like you. You, too, hate the thought of sickness. You, too, cannot bear people to be ill. So I tried to smile at them, and to act as if I did not feel the pain.
... Your flowers ... your exquisite, blessed flowers....
To-day is my birthday, and you are coming, yet I am not happy.
All my best friends are coming. I shall sit at the same table as you! You will sit on my right hand, for you are the only one who comes for the first time. It is not wrong, it cannot be wrong. But if it is wrong, then punish me, let me suffer for it; I am ready.