Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. Sheppard prepared for church. Although Martha did not know it, she had her pistol and her daggers, and her knife. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk.
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