Arthur’s face fell as he said in an amazed sort of way:⁠—

“Where poor Lucy is buried?” The Professor bowed. Arthur went on: “And when there?”

“To enter the tomb!” Arthur stood up.

“Professor, are you in earnest; or it is some monstrous joke? Pardon me, I see that you are in earnest.” He sat down again, but I could see that he sat firmly and proudly, as one who is on his dignity. There was silence until he asked again:⁠—

“And when in the tomb?”

“To open the coffin.”

“This is too much!” he said, angrily rising again. “I am willing to be patient in all things that are reasonable; but in this⁠—this desecration of the grave⁠—of one who⁠—” He fairly choked with indignation. The Professor looked pityingly at him.