All the village was assembled in the churchyard. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance.
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