Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. “Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to see her in a carriage. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. She rolled to one side. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. By the side of her plate was a small key. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. Take the one that struck him at this moment.
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