He jumped back, wrenching the sword away. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. Mike and Shari sat at the kitchen table eating potato chips. Two of these had been her particular intimates at the High School, and had done much to send her mind exploring beyond the limits of the available literature at home.
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