"
"Is--is--is his body still here?" enquired Cameron, after a few moments'
silence.
"Yes, it's in the next room. Do you want to see it? He was pretty badly
smashed up, I'm afraid."
"I think I should like to see him," said Cameron. "I know his people,
you see, and I would like to tell them that I saw him."
"Oh, all right," said the doctor. He called an orderly.
"Come this way, sir," said the orderly.
Together they followed the orderly into the next room, apparently a
storehouse for grain. There lying upon the floor they saw three silent
shapes, wrapped in grey blankets.
"This is Mcpherson, sir," said the orderly, looking at the card attached
to the blanket.
He stooped, drew down the blanket from the face and stepped back. In
civil life, both Barry and Cameron had seen the faces of the dead, but
only in the coffin, after having been prepared for burial by those whose
office it is to soften by their art death's grim austerities.
Cameron gave one swift glance at the shapeless, bloody mass, out of
which stared up at him wide-open glassy eyes.
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