Book the Third - The Track of a Storm
14. XIV. The Knitting Done
(continued)
By good fortune she had a veil on her bonnet, or she could hardly
have gone along the streets without being stopped. By good fortune,
too, she was naturally so peculiar in appearance as not to show
disfigurement like any other woman. She needed both advantages, for
the marks of gripping fingers were deep in her face, and her hair was
torn, and her dress (hastily composed with unsteady hands) was
clutched and dragged a hundred ways.
In crossing the bridge, she dropped the door key in the river.
Arriving at the cathedral some few minutes before her escort, and
waiting there, she thought, what if the key were already taken in a
net, what if it were identified, what if the door were opened and the
remains discovered, what if she were stopped at the gate, sent to
prison, and charged with murder! In the midst of these fluttering
thoughts, the escort appeared, took her in, and took her away.
"Is there any noise in the streets?" she asked him.
"The usual noises," Mr. Cruncher replied; and looked surprised by the
question and by her aspect.
"I don't hear you," said Miss Pross. "What do you say?"
It was in vain for Mr. Cruncher to repeat what he said; Miss Pross
could not hear him. "So I'll nod my head," thought Mr. Cruncher,
amazed, "at all events she'll see that." And she did.
"Is there any noise in the streets now?" asked Miss Pross again,
presently.
Again Mr. Cruncher nodded his head.
"I don't hear it."
"Gone deaf in an hour?" said Mr. Cruncher, ruminating, with his mind
much disturbed; "wot's come to her?"
"I feel," said Miss Pross, "as if there had been a flash and a crash,
and that crash was the last thing I should ever hear in this life."
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