Not many years ago, two men, employed on this duty, quarrelled during the night, and in the morning their bodies were found stretched upon the pavement of the yard beneath. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head.
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