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“Cheveney wouldn’t have anything to say about it, as it happens,” he remarked, a little grimly. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction. Having read the three first verses of the impressive service appointed for the burial of the dead, he returned to the church, whither the coffin was carried through the south-western door, and placed in the centre of the aisle—Mr. CHAPTER XXVII. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. You see I am rather obstinate. “No!” “Don’t try and stop me.
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