He was a little flushed, and in the mood to answer hilariously whatever was said to him.
"What have you been doing to that old chap's grave ?" he asked, pointing to the red flag which floated from the top of the stones.
"We have tried to make him forget his misfortune in having died three hundred years ago," said Mr.Perrott.
"It would be awful--to be dead!" ejaculated Evelyn M.
"To be dead ?" said Hewet.

"I don't think it would be awful.

It's quite easy to imagine.

When you go to bed to-night fold your hands so--breathe slower and slower--" He lay back with his hands clasped upon his breast, and his eyes shut, "Now," he murmured in an even monotonous voice, "I shall never, never, never move again." His body, lying flat among them, did for a moment suggest death.
"This is a horrible exhibition, Mr.Hewet!" cried Mrs.Thornbury.
"More cake for us!" said Arthur.
"I assure you there's nothing horrible about it," said Hewet, sitting up and laying hands upon the cake.
"It's so natural," he repeated.

"People with children should make them do that exercise every night.