What he wanted desperately was to be alone. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. " "Yon ask impossibilities," replied Jonathan, sullenly. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. Almost the last female to bear the name, too,’ muttered the old lady. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat.
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