"What have you seen?" inquired Lady Trafford. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Vorsack rose from the table and departed for the bathroom, mumbling something about a Tylenol.
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