58 \"Why will you not touch me?\" She cried out, sitting up, her head in her hands. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. She must weigh her situation. When he recovered his mental faculties, he would lie there, neutral; they could save him or let him die, as they pleased; and the doctor knew that he would wear himself out forcing his own will to live into this neutrality. Don’t leave me in this beastly thing. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. Why didn’t he die?” Anna sprang to her feet and walked restlessly up and down the room.
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