Bearded workmen with pious faces were guiding a canopy out through a side door, the sacristan aiding them with quiet gestures and words. The heavy scowl faded from Cranly's face as MacCann marched briskly towards them from the other side of the hall. A rictus of cruel malignity lit up greyly their old bony faces. I HOPE I AM NOT DETAINING YOU.
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