You need fear no interruption from him, or any of his myrmidons. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. She was clear there were no other minds like them in all the world. She shrugged her shoulders. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. Apparently he thought it very much worth while. ‘Until today. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing.
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