The Garden of Survival

oment when the head fell forward on my knee and she was gone. That “recovery” of consciousness I feel bound to question, as you shall shortly hear. Among such curious

ther it was “recovery” of consciousness is another matter, and a problem that I must for ever question though I cannot ever set it confidently at re

g too. There was a radiance in her face I must call glory. Her head was in my lap upon the bed of rugs we had improvised inside the field: the broken motor posed in a monstrous heap ten yards away; and the doctor, summoned by

y appealing, and yet so touched with the awe of a final privacy beyond language, that the doctor stepped backwards on the i

ittle sentences, as though the breath of the clear

heard both troub

till!” went through me like a sw

, with me — Marion!” And I apparently tried to put into my smile the tenderness that clumsy words for

ce and hair. No

not remember that. I have forgotten names.” Then, as I kissed her, I heard her add in the clearest wh

ds that I could hardly believe I heard aright, although

ng. Even in the dark I hear — how lo

le towards my own. I saw earnest entreaty in them. “Tell me,” I murmure

whispered, “I

y troubled, aching heart, I found but commonplaces? For I thought o

oon. We shall carry you now into comfort, safet

d, interrupting, “mu

d such stupid things.

,” she whispered, “

Beethoven, Schumann — what would pl

ose names”— she shook he

that her head seemed more than I could hold. I shifte

r voice again and smiling sadly as though something came back to her that s

a sin

heaviness shifted from my brain. It seemed the years, the centuries, turned over like a w

God’s musi

dispel a mist that shrouded both our minds, she went on in a whisper that yet was startlingly distinct, though with little p

rt like fire, and a sense of haunting things whereof no conscious memory remained

at the last,” I caught her thin cle

impatiently, coming a few steps nearer, then turning away again. I heard the sounds of tinkering with metal that the driver made ten yards behind us.

d. And I shal

fort her in that afflicting moment, I bent lower — or, rather, she drew my ear closer to her lips. I think her great desire just

eard distinctly, “I nee

mercilessly for me to bear; yet, before my bewilderment enabled me to frame an answer, sh

. the only true

off into a sigh; she smiled, but her head sank lower with her

unawakened still... an

stammer, pause, then flush as with this last deep impulse to yield a secret she discerned for the first time fully, in the very

of insects. A bird sang loudly on a branch above; it seemed miles away, across an empty world.... Then, of a sudden, I became aware that the weight of the head and shoulders had dreadfully increa

h; yet, even while this was so, I sought most desperately through the depths of my anguished pity to find s

her cheek. The doctor stood beside me, his grave and kindly face bent low. He spoke

lived, had faithfully acted out, yet herself only dimly aware of why it had to be. The solution of this problem of unrequited love lay at la

ning man who sees his past — when the solution lay ready to her hand. She saw clearly, she understood, she burned to tell me

, but I shall