The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. “Contrarily, you are sitting on a sepulcher of death! It 30 is only a matter of time before the Pestilence strikes here again, Gianfrancesco. Will you let your servant call me a hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her side. People sat in unusual pews, and a wide margin of hassocky emptiness intervened between the ceremony and the walls. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. Then Manning flopped back in his chair and dropped his chin like a man shot. He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car.
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