But even as I looked a change came over him and I saw the end wasn't far away, and Moira saw it and clung fast to him.
"Take me with you," she said. "I have found you and can't leave you. I've looked for you so often and I couldn't find you. We lost each other so many times and the road together was so blind."
"It's all the same," he said, "she knows." He nodded to Mis' MacFarland. "It's all the same."
Mis' MacFarland motioned to me and I came to her and I was trembling like a leaf.
"It's only walking into another room," she said.
Moira sat beside him, his hand in hers, pleading with her eyes. He turned to Mis' MacFarland—"You make her understand," he said, "we all have to wait our turn. You make her understand that we're all the same."
And we knew that he was talking about life and death. And then, as I watched, I saw the life of him was ebbing out and saw that Moira knew it. And then he was gone, just like the slow turning out of a light.
Moira turned to Mis' MacFarland and looked at her, and then I saw she'd gotten to the other side of grief, to where Mis' MacFarland was—to the place where there wasn't any death.