The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white. Unless—would he hide from them as he had hidden from her? It was a big house, he said. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too.
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