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It
kills
the
very
good
and
the
very
gentle
and
the
very
brave
impartially
.
If
you
are
none
of
these
you
can
be
sure
it
will
kill
you
too
but
there
will
be
no
special
hurry
.
I
remember
waking
in
the
morning
.
Catherine
was
asleep
and
the
sunlight
was
coming
in
through
the
window
.
The
rain
had
stopped
and
I
stepped
out
of
bed
and
across
the
floor
to
the
window
.
Down
below
were
the
gardens
,
bare
now
but
beautifully
regular
,
the
gravel
paths
,
the
trees
,
the
stone
wall
by
the
lake
and
the
lake
in
the
sunlight
with
the
mountains
beyond
.
I
stood
at
the
window
looking
out
and
when
I
turned
away
I
saw
Catherine
was
awake
and
watching
me
.
"
How
are
you
,
darling
?
"
she
said
.
"
Isn
’
t
it
a
lovely
day
?
"
"
How
do
you
feel
?
"
"
I
feel
very
well
.
We
had
a
lovely
night
.
"
"
Do
you
want
breakfast
?
"
She
wanted
breakfast
.
So
did
I
and
we
had
it
in
bed
,
the
November
sunlight
coming
in
the
window
,
and
the
breakfast
tray
across
my
lap
.
"
Don
’
t
you
want
the
paper
?
You
always
wanted
the
paper
in
the
hospital
?
"
"
No
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
don
’
t
want
the
paper
now
.
"
"
Was
it
so
bad
you
don
’
t
want
even
to
read
about
it
?
"
