I bore her on, feeling no weariness, no pain, no sorrow. The gravestones told me no sad stories, the shadows of the trees were only beautiful pictures painted on the green grass.
When I came to the churchyard gate I saw the old sexton.
"What have 'ee got there?" he gasped.
"'What have 'ee got there?' he gasped."
"Take your keys and lantern," I said.
He took them both mechanically, and then looked at Ruth awestruck.
"Where did 'ee take et from?" he said, in a hoarse whisper.
"Her grave," I said.