‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. It was better even than the hymn-singing. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. ’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. “Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. There would be no moon. ” Sir John turned towards the door.
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