Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. She felt the warm nearness of his. ’ For a moment or two there was dead silence in the parlour. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place.
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