Of course it was true. And why not? What was there against it? It had
been a great help for her what the gentleman had told her... Yes, and
he had gone to sleep with his head in her lap... and she had stayed
awake all night thinking... and he had waked up just in time to see the
sun rise. Some sunrise that was, too.
That was a curious little fact that all three of them, even the
battered pugilist, should have been so deeply struck by that sunrise.
Wilbraham on the last day of his life, when he hovered between
consciousness and unconsciousness, kept recalling it as though it had
been a vision.
"The sun--and the trees suddenly green and bright like glittering
swords. All shapes--swords, plowshares, elephants, and camels--and the
sky pale like ivory. See, now the sun is rushing up, faster than ever,
to take us with him, up, up, leaving the trees like green clouds
beneath us--far, far beneath us--"
The woman said that it was the finest sunrise she had ever seen. He
talked to her all the time about his plans. He was looking disheveled
now and unshaven and dirty.
Pages:
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562