“The most wonderful thing in the accident itself,” pursued Miriam firmly, grasping her midnight freedom and gazing into the pattern her determination that for another few minutes no one should come up to interrupt, “was being so near to death.” She glanced up to gauge the effect of her improvisation. The moment she was now intent upon had not been ‘wonderful.’ She would not be able to substantiate it; she had never thought it through. It lay ahead now for exploration if he wished, ready to reveal its quality to her for the first time ...... he was sitting hunched against the wall with his hands driven into his pockets, waiting without resistance, with an intentness equal to her own ... she returned gratefully to her carpet. “It was a skid” she said feeling the oily slither of her front tyre. “I fell with my elbow and head between the horses’ heels and the wheel of a dray. The back-thrown hoof of the near horse caught the inner side of my arm, and for a long long time I saw the grey steel rim of the huge wheel approaching my head. It was strained back with all my force, my elbow pressing the ground, but I thought it could not miss me. There was a moment of absolute calm; _indifference_ almost. It came after a feeling of hatred and yet pity for the wheel. It was so awful, wet glittering grey, and relentless; and stupid, it could not help going on.” “This was indeed a most _remarkable_ psychological experience. It happens rarely to be so near death with full consciousness. But this absence of fear must be in you a personal idiosyncracy.” “But I _was_ afraid. The thing is that you don’t go _on_ feeling afraid. Do you see?” “I hear what you say. But while there is the chance of life the instinct of self-preservation is so strong” ... “But that is the surprise; the tumult in your body, something surging up and doing things without thinking.” “Instinctive nervous reaction.” “But there is something else. In the moment you are _sure_ you are going to be killed, death changes. You wait, for the moment after.” “That is an illusion, the strength of life in you that cannot, midst good health, accept death. But tell me; your arm was certainly broken?” His gently breathed question took away the sting of his statement. “No. The wheel went over it just above the bend of the elbow. I did not feel it, and got up feeling only a little dizzy just for a moment and horribly annoyed at the crowd round me. But the two men who were riding with me told me afterwards that my face was grey and my eyes quite _black_.” “That was shock.” He rose and stood facing her, in shadow; dark and frock-coated, like a doctor. “Yes; but I mean it shows that things look worse than they are.” “That is most certainly a deduction that might be drawn. Nevertheless you suffered a most formidable _shock_.”