The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. The doctor nodded to him curtly. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. One can learn and understand only by personal experience, by actual contact with the realities of life. She became more assertive, more defiant. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. What was his problem, she thought to herself. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. She was powerless to move from her chair. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. The carte de jour was before Monsieur.
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