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It was a lonely place to die and she begged him not leave her alone. But he did just that.
Since then the body of Francys Arsentiev has been a macabre way mark en route to the rooftop of the world.
Identifiable by her bright purple jacket, her twisted corpse has been a harrowing reminder of the perils of climbing at extreme altitude and to the fact that those who come to this place are prepared to die - or leave others to die - in pursuit of the top.
Yesterday controversial mountaineer Ian Woodall, who along with his wife Cathy O'Dowd took the decision to leave the mother of one to die on Everest in 1998, led a small party of Sherpas on an extraordinary mission to bury her body on the mountain that claimed her.
Hers is one of three corpses to have scarred the last stages of the ascent in recent years. One, an unnamed Indian, is known to summitting mountaineers only by his green boots.
A third is British engineer David Sharp, who perished last year just 300m from the summit as 40 fellow climbers filed slowly past his dying body, unable or unwilling to give assistance.
Woodall, who has reached the summit twice before, says he aims to bury all three, using his last expedition to restore a measure of dignity to the fallen climbers. Some 203 people have lost their lives on Everest since it was first climbed more than 50 years ago, most have never been recovered.
Nine years ago, Woodall and O'Dowd stayed with the American for an hour, listening to her beg "please don't leave me" before making the decision to do just that.
"There was nothing that could be done even before we reached her," recalled O'Dowd yesterday. "People always say there is but sometimes there just isn't. You are in an environment where there is no 999 to call - no ambulance. When people say 'do something' what they mean is 'get someone else to help' - but there is no one else at these altitudes.
"Up in the highest reaches of the mountain every climber is expected to be self-sufficient. Everyone who climbs above 8,000m is in a race against time simply to stay alive. It is a place where compassion can be a double death sentence.
Francys Arsentiev, 40, and her husband Serguei, climbing alone and without oxygen, were taking an exceptional risk, recalls O'Dowd.
"What they were trying was very impressive but extremely risky. If you do it you are best in the world if you don't you are dead," she said.
The Arsentievs lived in Telluride, Colorado. Friends said she was an "assertive, tenacious woman obsessed with becoming a skilled mountaineer." The couple met while trekking in the Himalayas six years earlier and friends said they were ideally suited.
Both lived for the mountains although Mrs Arsentiev's 11-year-old young son Paul was given the casting vote on whether his mother should go.
But the Arsentievs became separated soon after beginning their descent. Although highly experienced, he fell and died while she was forced to spend a night alone on the mountain in temperatures of minus 30.
"When I think of Francys I feel lonely - it is a very lonely way to die," said O'Dowd.
But Arsentiev is not the only ghost haunting Woodall on the slopes of Everest.
In 1996 the former British army officer led the first South African team to climb Everest an achievement that created considerable rejoicing back home.
O'Dowd was also on the mission. But the following day it emerged they had left fellow climber, photographer Bruce Herrod, on the mountain behind them. Pushing ahead in the freezing conditions, the couple believed Herrod would follow on after spending a day fixing equipment and resting.
Their decision to allow him to proceed alone was heavily criticised at the time. Herrod eventually made the top and a self-portrait marks his achievement. But he fell and died on the descent.
In an interview following his death, his former girlfriend Sue Thompson described her anger at her boyfriend's climbing partners and puzzlement at what she was their "insensitivity" at his death.
Some of them "scarcely said they were sorry he was dead," she recalled.
But on his last website entry before embarking on his latest adventure, Woodall describes building a memorial to Bruce "in the shadow of the mountain that he loved so much".
"We wanted to say a final farewell and give ourselves the freedom to move on with our lives. Lives that would not include Bruce, but lives which would be profoundly better for having known him."
According to O'Dowd the present expedition "is also about Bruce."
She admits her husband took "a lot of flak" over the South African adventure and was affected by the tragedy and accusations over his management style.
"The expedition wasn't perfect and Ian can be a little dictatorial but I think people often fail to realise how very good he is at things like logistics and organisation and making these things happen. Many of the people who are prepared to criticise have never done what he has before."
- INDEPENDENT
