’ He grimaced. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. He whispered in her ear. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. ” A man of infinite tact and kindness, he spoke his message and went. They simply understood there was a greater need to get over the past than to talk about it.
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