must have died within minutes of retiring

of suicide; simply that to him laying sacred things on Mary Carson’s body was obscene.

She was very dead, must have died within minutes of retiring, a good fifteen hours earlier. The windows were closed fast, and the room humid from the great flat pans of water she insisted be put in every inconspicuous corner to keep her skin youthful. There was a peculiar noise in the air; after a stupid moment of wondering he realized what he heard were flies, hordes of flies buzzing, insanely clamoring as they feasted on her, mated on her, laid their eggs on her. "For God’s sake, Mrs. Smith, open the windows!" he gasped, moving to the bedside, face pallid.

She had passed out of rigor mortis and was again limp, disgustingly so. The staring eyes were mottling, her thin lips black;

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