Years by Woolf Virginia

Author:Woolf, Virginia [Woolf, Virginia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Project Gutenberg
Published: 1937-02-16T05:00:00+00:00

Her room was at the top, and at the back, overlooking the garden. It was small, but when she had unpacked her things it was comfortable enough. It had a look of Abercorn Terrace. Indeed for many years she had been hoarding odds and ends with a view to her retirement. Indian elephants, silver vases, the walrus that she had found in the waste-paper basket one morning, when the guns were firing for the old Queen's funeral--there they all were. She ranged them askew on the mantelpiece, and when she had hung the portraits of the family--some in wedding-dress, some in wigs and gowns, and Mr Martin in his uniform in the middle because he was her favourite--it was quite like home.

But whether it was the change to Richmond, or whether he had caught cold in the snow, Rover sickened immediately. He refused his food. His nose was hot. His eczema broke out again. When she tried to take him shopping with her next morning he rolled over with his feet in the air as if he begged to be left alone. Mr Bishop had to tell Mrs Crosby--for she wore the courtesy title in Richmond--that in his opinion the poor old chap (here he patted his head) was better out of the way.

"Come along with me, my dear," said Mrs Burt, putting her arm on Crosby's shoulder, "and let Bishop do it."

"He won't suffer, I can assure you," said Mr Bishop, rising from his knees. He had put her Ladyship's dogs to sleep scores of time before this. "He'll just take one sniff"--Mr Bishop had his pocket-handkerchief in his hand--"and he'll be off in a jiffy."

"It'll be for his good, Annie," Mrs Burt added, trying to draw her away.

Indeed, the poor old dog looked very miserable. But Crosby shook her head. He had wagged his tail; his eyes were open. He was alive. There was a gleam of what she had long considered a smile on his face. He depended on her, she felt. She was not going to hand him over to strangers. She sat by his side for three days and nights; she fed him with a teaspoon on Brand's Essence; but at last he refused to open his lips; his body grew stiffer and stiffer; a fly walked across his nose without its twitching. This was in the early morning with the sparrows twittering on the trees outside.

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