It was as though he were personally aggrieved. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. "I've counted ten coffins so far. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. "I thought I heard a noise. I hate what I have to do to survive. There are two ways to go in, you understand. . ‘I broke in.
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