His good-humored reproach told me more than any other thing how far from his mind was thought of death for me.

Then he talked a little to me, cheerfully, with that directness and force characteristic of him always, showing me that the danger was past, and that I would now be rapidly on the mend.

I discovered that I cared little whether I was on the mend or not.

When I had passed the state of somber unrealities and then the hours of pain and then that first inspiring flush of renewed desire to live, an entirely different mood came over me.

But I kept it to myself.