’Youhavegotasilverplateletintoyerhead，haven’tye，corpel？’
saidAnthonyCripplestraw，whohaddrawnnear。’Ihaveheardthatthewaytheymorticedyerskullwasabeautifulpieceofworkmanship。Perhapstheyoungwomanwouldliketoseetheplace？
’Tisacurioussight，Mis’essAnne；youdon’tseesuchawowndeveryday。’
’No，thankyou，’saidAnnehurriedly，dreading，asdidalltheyoungpeopleofOvercombe，thespectacleofthecorporaluncovered。HehadneverbeenseeninpublicwithoutthehatandthehandkerchiefsincehisreturninNinety-four；andstrangestoriesweretoldoftheghastlinessofhisappearancebare-headed，alittleboywhohadaccidentallybeheldhimgoingtobedinthatstatehavingbeenfrightenedintofits。
’Well，iftheyoungwomandon’twanttoseeyerhead，maybeshe’dliketohearyerarm？’continuedCripplestraw，earnesttopleaseher。