“What the devil are you doing star-gazing here?” Ennison looked at him in surprise. It might prove rewarding. " "We shall see," replied Jack. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. They must be for your father. It may bring us together again. But his lips were honourlocked. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. E. .
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