She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. In one of these seats, at the end of the aisle farthest removed from the chancel, the widow took her place, and addressed herself fervently to her devotions. These two elderly ladies would call her stark mad. Her senses were prickled when she felt a new pair of eyes upon her. It’s not a bit of good pretending there’s any Higher Truth or wonderful principle in this business. They moved fast. ch.
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