All she needed to do was to have a body. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. She removed the belt and drew down his zipper. But don't suppose, Madam, that anything I say has reference to you.
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