She knew perfectly that it was sheer nerves; but she could not just yet shake them off.

As she had said, it was the first time she had seen death.
"And that priest--that priest doesn't think so ?" "My dear, I'll tell you what he believes.

He believes that that man whom he showed the crucifix to, and said those words over, is alive somewhere, in spite of his brain being dead: he is not quite sure where; but he is either in a kind of smelting works being slowly burned; or, if he is very lucky, and that piece of wood took effect, he is somewhere beyond the clouds, before Three Persons who are only One although They are Three; that there are quantities of other people there, a Woman in Blue, a great many others in white with their heads under their arms, and still more with their heads on one side; and that they've all got harps and go on singing for ever and ever, and walking about on the clouds, and liking it very much indeed.

He thinks, too, that all these nice people are perpetually looking down upon the aforesaid smelting-works, and praising the Three Great Persons for making them.
That's what the priest believes.

Now you know it's not likely; that kind of thing may be very nice, but it isn't true." Mabel smiled pleasantly.