“That’s all right, then.”
Hardly had Bartholomew Storrs glanced at the document received from Mr. Hines than he lifted a stiffening face.
“What is this?” he challenged.
“What’s what?”
The official tapped the paper with a gaunt finger. “‘Minna Merivale, aged twenty-five,’” he read.
“That’s the name she went by.”
“Unmarried” read Bartholomew Storrs in a voice of doom.
“Well?”
In the sexton’s eyes gleamed an unholy savagery of satisfaction. “Take her away.”
“What?”