CHAPTER VII. But perhaps if people didn’t like clear, bright, healthy eyes—which is biologically understandable—they couldn’t like precious stones. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. CHAPTER XXVI. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. A slight cough uttered by Jonathan at the moment awakened the echoes of the place, and was returned in hollow reverberations. Night and day have been alike to me. It feels like I’ve got a snake of mucus stuffing my entire throat, just one big solid rope.
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