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‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. 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. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him. Then she took her sister’s hand. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern. “Not a bit of it. The performance over, he relaxed and closed his eyes. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade.
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