They took a tram to the Haymarket, as they were afraid of being recognized in the Waterloo cars, and reached Regent Street after eleven.

The hotels had disgorged their customers, who were talking loudly in groups on the footpath or lurching homeward with uneven steps.

Jonah was explaining that he must see Clara all the way home on account of the lateness of the hour, when he was astonished to hear someone sobbing in the monumental mason's yard as if his heart would break.

He turned and looked.

The headstones and white marble crosses stood in rows with a faint resemblance to a graveyard; the moonlight fell clear and cold on these monuments awaiting a purchaser.
Some, already sold, were lettered in black with the name of the departed.