Mary Leighton was crying; Charlotte was silent.

I don't think I heard her voice at all.
After a long while I heard them go down, and go into the dining-room.
They spoke in very subdued tones, and there was only the slightest movement of china and silver, to indicate that a meal was going on.

But this seemed to give me a more frantic sense of change than anything else.

I flung myself across the bed, and another of those dreadful, tearless spasms seized me.

Everything--all life--was going on just the same; even in this very house they were eating and drinking as they ate and drank before--the very people who had talked with him this day; the very table at which he had sat this morning.