He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. "How is Mr. " "Well, you'll have lots of time down there. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. It’s—Mrs. “Anna!” he exclaimed hoarsely. The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland's gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch.
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