He thought of the triviality of it—that some random place should be the site of her death. That she would lie on the ground, everything spinning about her, and breathe her last. And then he thought of the uselessness of her clothing, of all the things that had been cut to her size, of all the tools that had been shaped under her hand, of everything in her life that had been measured to her—how useless it would all suddenly become. And he thought of how the world would rush into the space where she had been, and occupy it with something else. He began almost to cry, and tears gathered in his eyes. He felt very much that he loved her. She was his family, the whole of it. He loved her.The examiner saw this, and took his hand.—Walk with me, she said.They walked up the street to where a thin path ran between rocks up a hill. They followed that path and came to a wrought iron gate at the hilltop, where a fence barred their way. The examiner opened the gate and they went through.A long, rolling yard lay before them, going off down the hill to a distant tree line.
