Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. ‘Who have lately joined us,’ she said, adding sotto voce, ‘A very great tragedy. “I’ll try to stop by. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. The area in front of the jail was completely filled.
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