ked at her mother's face, thin yet swollen,
with lips parted in a frozen gasp above the broken teeth. There was no
sign in it of anything human: she lay there like a dead dog in a ditch
Charity's hands grew cold as they touched her.

Mr. Miles drew the woman's arms across her breast and laid his coat
over her. Then he covered her face with his handkerchief, and placed the
bottle with the candle in it at her head. Having done this he stood up.

"Is there no coffin?" he asked, turning to the group behind him.

There was a moment of bewildered silence; then the fierce girl spoke up.
"You'd oughter brought it with you. Where'd we get one here, I'd like
ter know?"

Mr. Miles, looking at the others, repeated: "Is it possible you have no
coffin ready?"

"That's what I say: them that has it sleeps better," an old woman
murmured. "But then she never had no bed...."

"And the stove warn't hers," said the lank-haired man, on the defensive.

Mr. Miles turned away from them and moved a few steps apart. He had
drawn a book from his pocket, and after a pause he opened it and began
to read, holding the book at arm's length and low down, so that the
pages caught the feeble light. Charity had remained on her knees by the
mattress: now that her mother's face was covered it was easier to stay
near her, and avoid the sight of the living faces which too horribly
showed by what stages hers had lapsed into death.

"I am the Resurrection and the Life," Mr. Miles began; "he that
believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.... Though after
my skin worms destroy my body, yet in my flesh shall I see God...."

IN MY FLESH SHALL I SEE GOD! Charity thought of the gaping mouth and
stony eyes under the handkerchief, and of the glistening leg over which
she had drawn the stocking....

"We brought nothing into this world and we shall take nothing out of
it----"

There was a sudden muttering and a scuffle at the back of the group. "I
brought the stove," said the elderly man with lank hair, pushing his
way between the others. "I wen' down to Creston'n bought it... n' I got a
right to take it outer here... n' I'll lick any feller says I ain't...."

"Sit down, damn you!" shouted the tall youth who had been drowsing on
the bench against the wall.

"For man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain; he
heapeth up riches and cannot tell who shall gather them...."

"Well, it ARE his," a woman in the background interject