That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. They are all at prayer at this hour. ’ ‘What, Madame Valade?’ demanded Gerald. The sky was dripping a wet, slow rain that had forced the city’s inhabitants into taxicabs and dingy cafeterias, the day wholly ruined for all except the insane schizophrenics and her. If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath. . She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it.
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