Also, Mr. Shill exhibited letters in which Mr. Carter promised to “get” Mr. Smull unless a satisfactory financial arrangement were made for his personal maintenance.
The name of Eris did not appear in the newspapers.
There were black-edged cards tacked to the bulletin boards of several fashionable clubs, announcing the decease of Albert Wesly Smull. Nothing like that for Eddie Carter.
Saint Berold’s Chapel indorsed Smull. The music was especially fine. The Crook’s Quickstep for Carter; Broadway’s roar his requiem.
However, what was left of Eddie, coal-tar and all, went to Evergreen Valley Cemetery in an automobile hearse, chased by one trailer.
A young girl got out of the trailer after the coffin was lowered, the grave filled, and the mound deftly shaped. She laid a bunch of wild blue asters and golden-rod on the mound.
Then, after she had stood motionless for a minute, she got into the trailer again, where a young man awaited her.
Until their automobile was outside the cemetery neither of them spoke.
Then: “I’ve been wondering,” said Annan, “what is your religion, Eris,—what particular denomination.”
“Oh,” she said, “I am quite happy in any church. Or, in synagogue or mosque, I should feel no barrier between my mind and God’s.... Would you?”