Miss Chressham put her aside and rose.
"They are showing him for money," she said, in a tone of uncontrolled agony. "My God, how can one bear it?"
"You—you could do nothing?"
Susannah answered fiercely.
"Why do you ask me that, Selina? Do you think that I have not tried? And he has friends; but my lord's dead face was one of my lord's best assets, and there is not a woman in London hath not been to see him—paying gold for it."
"Ah, forgive me!" said Miss Boyle, in a broken voice. "I have been forgetting what it is to you—you who are of his house; and you were fond of him."
"Yes, I was fond of him," answered Susannah, with a short laugh, "but I could not spare him this. What are they, these men who make their profit of the dead?"
Miss Boyle rose.
"I must go," she said feverishly. "Would you forsake him, Susannah, because he hath strangers about him? When so many look on him for curiosity, shall not some look on him for love? I must go, if it kills me."