After Capes had finished the Scotchman’s troubles he went back into the preparation-room. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. Rituals instead of medicines. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. ‘You don’t know him. She walked across to this apartment and, opening the door a little wider, discovered a press section of the movement at work.
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