Mr. The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. It was Annabel who spoke. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. . He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. The investigators should have thought to check inside the garbage can. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven.
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