How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
Then she lighted a candle and went into the tiny room. The air was cold and damp, but she could not make a fire, there was no fireplace. She set down the candle and looked round. The candle-light glittered on the lustre-glasses, on the two vases that held some of the pink chrysanthemums, and on the dark mahogany. There was a cold, deathly smell of chrysanthemums in the room. (2.77)
Heat is used elsewhere to symbolize life, so it's fitting that here cold is associated with death. The chrysanthemums, which also symbolize death, pop up as well. (See "Symbolism, Imagery, Allegory" for more deets on these symbols and their meaning.)
Quote #2
When they arose, saw him lying in the naïve dignity of death, the women stood arrested in fear and respect. For a few moments they remained still, looking down, the old mother whimpering. Elizabeth felt countermanded. She saw him, how utterly inviolable he lay in himself. She had nothing to do with him. She could not accept it. (2.118)
Seeing Walter's dead body rocks Elizabeth's world and makes her question their entire relationship. In particular, she's really freaked out and how separate and unknowable he now appears, whereas she apparently felt before that she had a pretty good handle on who he was (i.e., a drunk) and what he was about (i.e., being drunk).
Quote #3
"Let me wipe him!"—and she kneeled on the other side drying slowly as Elizabeth washed, her big black bonnet sometimes brushing the dark head of her daughter. They worked thus in silence for a long time. They never forgot it was death, and the touch of the man's dead body gave them strange emotions, different in each of the women; a great dread possessed them both, the mother felt the lie was given to her womb, she was denied; the wife felt the utter isolation of the human soul, the child within her was a weight apart from her. (2.122)
Confronting death has made Elizabeth feel so disconnected that even the fetus growing inside her feels separate and alien, and her mother-in-law ostensibly feels that her son's death has given rise to some kind of betrayal or "lie" that affects her innards (i.e., her womb). In short, the women are feeling alienated from their own bodies as a result of dealing with Walt's death. Is it just us, or does this totally sound like the premise to a sci-fi horror story about a demon alien baby?
Quote #4
At last it was finished. He was a man of handsome body, and his face showed no traces of drink. He was blonde, full-fleshed, with fine limbs. But he was dead. (2.123)
The narration portrays Walt as somehow purified in death—his body shows no signs of the earthly things that sullied him in life, such as alcohol or coal dust. But yeah, still dead.
Quote #5
Elizabeth sank down again to the floor, and put her face against his neck, and trembled and shuddered. But she had to draw away again. He was dead, and her living flesh had no place against his. A great dread and weariness held her: she was so unavailing. Her life was gone like this. (2.125)
The shock of Walt's death has not only made Elizabeth feel alienated from him, but also from her own life; life as she knew it has ended for her as well as a result. It's the end of the world as she knows it, but unfortunately she doesn't feel so fine.
Quote #6
Was this what it all meant—utter, intact separateness, obscured by heat of living? (2.128)
Elizabeth seems to believe that any connection or knowledge she felt toward Walter has now been revealed as a lie; underneath all that and the mirage that the "heat of living" creates, everyone is just kind of "chilling" on their own, separate from one another. Not a very comforting thought.
Quote #7
She was grateful to death, which restored the truth. And she knew she was not dead. (2.129)
Although Elizabeth should probably be disturbed by these epiphanies about how she is alone and didn't really know her husband, Lawrence indicates here that she is grateful for having the wool pulled off her eyes. Okay, we guess she's a cup-half-full sort of person?
Quote #8
And all the while her heart was bursting with grief and pity for him. What had he suffered? What stretch of horror for this helpless man! (2.130)
Walt's death seems to have made Elizabeth feel uber guilty about their relationship, and now she has a lot more sympathy for him and his perspective. Sorry, homegirl, it's just too little, too late.
Quote #9
At last it was finished. They covered him with a sheet and left him lying, with his face bound. And she fastened the door of the little parlour, lest the children should see what was lying there. (2.134)
After Elizabeth and her mother-in-law have finished bathing, drying, and dressing the body, they leave him there. Elizabeth has been trying to hold off telling the kids what was happening, even lying and saying that he had come home in order to get them back to sleep when the commotion of delivering the body woke them.
Quote #10
But from death, her ultimate master, she winced with fear and shame. (2.134)
This is the last line of the story. You can check out "What's Up with the Ending?" for more details about this moment, but we'd like you to think about why Elizabeth feels shame in particular here. Fear we get, but is this the shame of having somehow totally misjudged her husband? Or something else? Your guess is as good as ours . . .