“Open the coffin.”
The mortuary man looked past the woman to the two men who stood behind her. He pulled out a soiled square of linen and dabbed his damp face. “Sirs, I appeal to you. You know what is within this wooden box. A wife does not need to see it.”
“But a widow does.” Sarah laid her hand on the wood before her. “Open it. Or lend me chisel and hammer and stand back.”
As Pitman stirred, Coke said quietly, “Your husband is not there, Mrs. Chalker. His soul is departed, we hope, for a better place. What remains is corruption. Leave it be.”
“John was never much of a churchman. Rarely on his knees, unless to throw dice or introduce a c**k into the ring. So I have no expectations of seeing him anywhere else but here. Open the coffin.”
The man looked a last appeal at Pitman and Coke.
