The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. . " And, as if to make the moral more obvious, a dirty pack of cards was scattered, underneath, upon the sawdust. The novel danger of the situation enthralled him. " "You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. After that, we'll go our several ways. And I have no more the pistol. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice.
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