For another minute she leaned over the slab, making out the fine-seared letters of the name.

Her body was bent forward; her two hands were clenched tightly at her side.
Even more slowly than she had advanced she turned toward Aldous and MacDonald.

Her face was dead white.

She lifted her hands to her breast, and clenched them there.
"It is his name," she said, and there was something repressed and terrible in her low voice.

"It is his name!" She was looking straight into the eyes of John Aldous, and he saw that she was fighting to say something which she had not spoken.