"Toward the end, for about an hour, the breathing became a constant sort of smothered whistle in the lung. The pulse flickered, came & went, ceased & revived a little again, & then with all perceptible action of the heart, altogether ceased to be sensible for some time before the breathing ceased....Her face then seemed, in a strange, dim, touching way, to become clearer. I went to the window to let in a little more of the afternoon light upon it (it was a bright, kind, soundless Sunday,) & when I came back to the bed she had drawn the breath that was not succeeded by another."
He goes on to specifies that he composes his letter with the corpse close at hand.
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| Alice James |
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