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CHAPTER XI

A FUNERAL AND A VIGIL

I don't quite see what you mean," said Reeves as they sat down to luncheon.

"Never mind," said Carmichael, "we shall see if I'm right or not. Meanwhile, there's the funeral this afternoon, and it would hardly be decent to take any action till after that, would it? Hullo, Marryatt, what time does the thing start?"

"Half-past two. A good many of the members mean to turn out, and one wanted them to get away in time for an afternoon round. I must say, I think the club's done handsomely by poor Brotherhood, considering how few of us really knew him. The Committee has sent a very fine wreath."

"And that's the only one, I should think," said Gordon.

"Oddly enough, it isn't. There's one other, a peculiarly expensive-looking thing, which came down from London. There's no name on it, no inscription of any kind, in fact."

"H'm!" said Reeves; "that's curious."

"My dear Reeves," expostulated Gordon, "I'm not going to have you examining the wreaths on the coffin with your lens and forceps. There are limits of decency."

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