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"
Would
you
like
something
to
eat
,
Father
?
"
"
Good
Lord
,
no
!
I
'm
going
to
bed
.
"
*
*
*
In
the
late
afternoon
a
hand
touched
his
shoulder
.
He
reached
for
it
blindly
without
the
energy
to
open
his
eyes
,
and
tried
to
hold
it
against
his
cheek
.
"
Meggie
,
"
he
mumbled
.
"
Father
,
Father
!
Oh
,
please
will
you
wake
up
?
"
At
the
tone
of
Mrs.
Smith
's
voice
his
eyes
came
suddenly
very
awake
.
"
What
is
it
,
Mrs.
Smith
?
"
"
It
's
Mrs.
Carson
,
Father
.
She
's
dead
.
"
His
watch
told
him
it
was
after
six
in
the
evening
;
dazed
and
reeling
from
the
heavy
torpor
the
day
's
terrible
heat
had
induced
in
him
,
he
struggled
out
of
his
pajamas
and
into
his
priest
's
clothes
,
threw
a
narrow
purple
stole
around
his
neck
and
took
the
oil
of
extreme
unction
,
the
holy
water
,
his
big
silver
cross
,
his
ebony
rosary
beads
.
It
never
occurred
to
him
for
a
moment
to
wonder
if
Mrs.
Smith
was
right
;
he
knew
the
spider
was
dead
.
Had
she
taken
something
after
all
?
Pray
God
if
she
had
,
it
was
neither
obviously
present
in
the
room
nor
obvious
to
a
doctor
.
What
possible
use
it
was
to
administer
extreme
unction
he
did
n't
know
.
But
it
had
to
be
done
.
Let
him
refuse
and
there
would
be
post-mortems
,
all
sorts
of
complications
.
Yet
it
had
nothing
to
do
with
his
sudden
suspicion
of
suicide
;
simply
that
to
him
laying
sacred
things
on
Mary
Carson
's
body
was
obscene
.
