Miss Laura did not go out.

She sat all day with a very quiet, pained face.
She could neither read nor sew, and Mr.and Mrs.Morris were just as unsettled.

They talked about the fire in low tones, and I could see that they felt more sad about Mrs.Montague's death than if she had died in an ordinary way.

Her dear little canary, Barry, died with her.

She would never be separated from him, and his cage had been taken up to the top of the hotel with her.