Sometimes I worked there quite alone.

I used to let myself in with a key and hoist my subject out of a sort of sepulchral tank by means of a chain tackle.
It was a ghoulish business.

You have no idea how awful the body used to look, to my unaccustomed eyes, as it rose slowly out of the tank.

It was like the resurrection scenes that you see on some old tombstones, where the deceased is shown rising out of his coffin while the skeleton, Death, falls vanquished with his dart shattered and his crown toppling off.
"I remember, too, that the demonstrator used to wear a blue apron, which created a sort of impression of a cannibal butcher's shop.

But I am afraid I am shocking you." "No, you are not.