Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. He hated horizons. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. Then she called a hansom and drove home. ‘She’s gone. She was slowed down by the icy wind that punctuated itself in screams around houses and trees. I do not care in the least.
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