I suppose there'll have to be an inquest.' Theodore Racksole stopped, and in an awkward solemn silence they all gazed at the dead youth.

His features were slightly drawn, and his eyes closed; that was all.

He might have been asleep.
'My poor Dimmock!' exclaimed the Prince, his voice broken.

'And I was angry because the lad did not meet me at Charing Cross!' 'Are you sure he is dead, Father ?' Nella said.
'You'd better go away, Nella,' was Racksole's only reply; but the girl stood still, and began to sob quietly.

On the previous night she had secretly made fun of Reginald Dimmock.