" Awed by Jonathan's manner, Mrs. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. I seek chaos, but not out of choice. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll.
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