There followed a burst of hysterical laughter, more bitter than any tears, and then she fainted away.
Aunt Julia stood in the porch, looking out. She was white to the lips. By the moonlight she could see the procession coming nearer—two men carrying lanterns, four men carrying a hurdle with a burden upon it, covered up altogether because it was broken and ghastly.
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.