Reaching the town, Troy descended into a side
street and entered a pair of gates surmounted by a board
bearing the words, "Lester, stone and marble mason."
Within were lying about stones of all sizes and designs,
inscribed as being sacred to the memory of unnamed
persons who had not yet died.
Troy was so unlike himself now in look, word, and
deed, that the want of likeness was perceptible even to
his own consciousness. His method of engaging himself
in this business of purchasing a tomb was that of an
absolutely unpractised man. He could not bring him-
self to consider, calculate, or economize. He waywardly
wished for something, and he set about obtaining it like
a child in a nursery. 'I want a good tomb." he said to
the man who stood in a little office within the yard.
"I want as good a one as you can give me for twenty-
seven pounds,"
It was all the money he possessed.
"That sum to include everything?"
"Everything. Cutting the name, carriage to Weather-
bury, and erection. And I want it now at once ."
"We could not get anything special worked this
week.
"If you would like one of these in stock it could be
got ready immediately.
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