We put Madeline in her tomb. Then Usher and I stopped and looked at her face.
‘Look,’ said Usher. ‘In death her face has more color. Does she not seem to smile?’
He was right. In death her face seemed more alive. We could not look at the dead lady for long, though, and soon returned upstairs.
After a few days my friend looked better, but then he began to act strangely and nervously again. He seemed to have a terrible secret. His skin became paler and he looked into empty space for hours. He seemed to listen for a sound. He scared me. I thought that he was, now, going completely mad.
Late one night, seven or eight days after we put Madeline in her tomb, I could not sleep.
