She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. Having read the three first verses of the impressive service appointed for the burial of the dead, he returned to the church, whither the coffin was carried through the south-western door, and placed in the centre of the aisle—Mr. Queens and Kings, as always, were made to be manipulated. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story. ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. ‘Of course the fellow has doubtless stayed put to wait for you,’ retorted Hilary.
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