Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief. These desperadoes had been the most active in demolishing the coach, and now, being supported by the rabble, they audaciously approached the very portals of the ancient Hall. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. Everybody looked askance at everybody else. “Thank you,” she said coolly. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. She was nearly dead.
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