Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. “Where is she?” He would yell even louder until she was sure that people in faraway fishing boats could probably hear him. Stunning and continuous, the din seemed almost to take away the power of hearing. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. Apparently I’m not to exist yet. As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with.
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