'It's very kind of you to want her.
I'll write and ask her.'
When the news spread among the patients, though everyone congratulated them, most of them privately told one another that it was very injudicious; but when they learnt, as sooner or later everything that happened in the sanatorium was learnt, that Dr Lennox had told Templeton that if he married he would be dead in six months, they were awed to silence.
Even the dullest were moved at the thought of these two persons who loved one another so much that they were prepared to sacrifice their lives.
A spirit of kindliness and goodwill descended on the sanatorium: people who hadn't been speaking spoke to one another again; others forgot for a brief space their own anxieties.
Everyone seemed to share in the happiness of the happy pair.
And it was not only the spring that filled those sick hearts with new hope, the great love that had taken possession of the man and the girl seemed to spread it effulgence on all that came near them.
Ivy was quietly blissful; the excitement became her and she looked younger and prettier.
Templeton seemed to walk on air.
He laughed and joked as if he hadn't a care in the world.
You would have said that he looked forward to long years of uninterrupted felicity.
But one day he confided in Ashenden.
'This isn't a bad place, you know,' he said.
'Ivy's promised me that when I hand in my checks she'll come back here.
She knows the people and she won't be so lonely.'
'Doctors are often mistaken,' said Ashenden.
'If you live reasonably I don't see why you shouldn't go on for a long time yet.'
'I'm only asking for three months.
If I can only have that it'll be worth it.'
Mrs Chester came up two days before the wedding.
She had not seen her husband for several months and they were shy with one another.
It was easy to guess that when they were alone they felt awkward and constrained.
Yet Chester did his best to shake off the depression that was now habitual and at all events at meal-times showed himself the jolly, hearty little fellow that he must have been before he fell ill.
On the eve of the wedding day they all dined together, Templeton and Ashenden both sitting up for dinner; they drank champagne and stayed up till ten joking, laughing and enjoying themselves.
The wedding took place next morning in the kirk.
Ashenden was best man.
Everyone in the sanatorium who could stand on his feet attended it.
The newly married couple were setting out by car immediately after lunch.
Patients, doctors and nurses assembled to see them off.
Someone had tied an old shoe on the back of the car, and as Templeton and his wife came out of the door of the sanatorium rice was flung over them.
A cheer was raised as they drove away, as they drove away to love and death.
The crowd separated slowly.
Chester and his wife went silently side by side.
After they had gone a little way he shyly took her hand.
Her heart seemed to miss a beat.
With a sidelong glance she saw that his eyes were wet with tears.
'Forgive me, dear,' he said.
'I've been very unkind to you.'
'I knew you didn't mean it,' she faltered.
'Yes, I did.
I wanted you to suffer because I was suffering.
But not any more.
All this about Templeton and Ivy Bishop – I don't know how to put it, it's made me see everything differently.
I don't mind dying any more.
I don't think death's very important, not so important as love.
And I want you to live and be happy.
I don't grudge you anything any more and I don't resent anything.
I'm glad now it's me that must die and not you.
I wish for you everything that's good in the world.
I love you.'