136 They came out and said it: Lucy was needed at home to cook and clean. In fact he was thinking of other things. I bound him up good and tight, stuffed his mouth with a length of rope, taped it shut. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. He was there concealed, waiting her return. And there arose too, a background of shouts. “One is always playing the surgeon, one kills always the thing one loves best. My death, probably. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. ” Sir John did not hesitate any longer. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials.
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