It had been very peaceful in the little cave for countless years. The air was crisp and dry. ‘That’s just it. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. Jarvis did not leave a will. She stood on the mat instead, and looked down on him.
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