Spurlock bent his head to his knees. The spinsters were not kind; they were only curious because she was odd and wore a dress thirty years out of date. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. “But we only aid the beccamorti by giving them our business! I refuse to pay exorbitant prices for wood coffins and burial for lesser servants who could just as easily be dragged into the pit! Let the dead bury the dead!” “You fool! It is the gross lack of sanitation you speak of that has brought us to this very end.
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