She knew what she had done.
"Why, George," she said, "she cannot speak.

She is dead.

I did it." She stood in the room a minute, looking from side to side, and then went with measured steps out of it, down the corridor and into the street.
"I did it," she said to herself again and again, as she walked slowly on.
The old cathedral is opposite to the inn.

Her eyes, as she passed, rested on the gargoyles, and she thought how fine they were.

One was a ridiculous head with lolling tongue.
A priest's voice inside was chanting mass.