Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. She stepped back quickly, and her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the floor. Those who act wickedly bring misery on all connected with them. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin.
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