You wouldn't mind spending your days here?'
'If there were a studio to work in,' said Gudrun, 'I could ask for
nothing better.'
'Is that so?'
He was really very pleased. But already he was getting tired. She could
see the grey, awful semi-consciousness of mere pain and dissolution
coming over him again, the torture coming into the vacancy of his
darkened eyes. It was not over yet, this process of death. She rose
softly saying:
'Perhaps you will sleep. I must look for Winifred.'
She went out, telling the nurse that she had left him. Day by day the
tissue of the sick man was further and further reduced, nearer and
nearer the process came, towards the last knot which held the human
being in its unity. But this knot was hard and unrelaxed, the will of
the dying man never gave way. He might be dead in nine-tenths, yet the
remaining tenth remained unchanged, till it too was torn apart. With
his will he held the unit of himself firm, but the circle of his power
was ever and ever reduced, it would be reduced to a point at last, then
swept away.
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