"
"But who is to publish them?" the Prioress asked. "They would require
to be gone over carefully, and I am too weak to do that, too weak
even to listen to you reading them."
Evelyn promised the Prioress again that she would collect all the
papers, and, as far as she could, select those which the Prioress
would herself select; and the promise she could see pleased the dying
woman. It was at the end of the week that the end came. Evelyn sat by
her, holding her hand, and hearing an ominous rattling sound in the
throat, she waited, waited, heard it again, saw the body tremble a
little, and then, getting up, she closed the eyes, said a little
prayer, and went out of the room to tell the nuns of the Prioress's
death, surprised at what seemed to her like indifference, without
tears in her eyes, or any manifestation of grief. There could be
none, for she was not feeling anything; she seemed to herself to be
mechanically performing certain duties, telling Mother Philippa, whom
she met in the passage, in a smooth, even voice, that the Prioress
had died five minutes ago, without any suffering, quite calmly. Her
lack of feeling seemed to her to give the words a strange ring, and
she wondered if Mother Philippa would be stirred very deeply.
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