"And now to dispose of our dead. Ah Cum, sensing the difficulty, approached, recovered the damp handkerchief and returned it. Diane Vorsack clicked her tongue in a “tsk”. Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. "Ah! I see. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. Ah, no, I have it wrong. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another.
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