As Melusine approached the door, she saw Kimble speed up. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. They all left the room. To her satisfaction, the captain reddened a trifle. 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. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat.
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