"At mine."
"Did he use a prayer-book, or any particular form of religious service?"
"He did not."
"Can you remember what he said?"
"As well as though it had been said yesterday."
"Will you kindly repeat his words, as you remember them?"
"I will. He said: 'In that day when the grave shall give up its dead, and the souls of them that were in prison shall be free, may we know that the unchained spirit of this our brother has reached the fulfilment of the joys that were denied him here, but which, through all time, have awaited his coming into that glorious country where toil and patience and a good conscience shall have their reasonable reward.' And then he said: 'Amen.'"
She bowed her head as though in reverent memory of the event. The room was so still that men heard their own hearts beat.
The bishop sighed.
"Was that all?" he asked.
"That was all."
"We thank you. You may retire."
She turned to go, but, before she had taken a step, Westgate rose to his feet.
"May I interrogate the witness?" he asked.
"If it is the pleasure of the witness to answer your interrogations," the bishop replied.
"I will answer anything," said Mary Bradley.
"Had your husband ever been baptized?" inquired Westgate.
"I do not know," she replied. "I greatly doubt it."
"Did he ever attend the services of any church?"
"Never, to my knowledge."
"Was he not an avowed unbeliever in religion?"
"He knew nothing about religion. I think he cared less," was the frank reply.
