Beyond that everything was nebulous. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. . 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. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. Straw and other combustibles being collected, were placed in the middle of the audiencechamber. If only to say goodbye. “Is Larry already in bed?” Cathy nodded yes. And here's the proof. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow.
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