"Shpeak up, vill you?" cried Abraham, rapping his knuckles against the hatch. Sections and pages had been pasted together, and all through both Testaments a word had been blotted out. To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open. An enormous Hand that rose up swiftly, blotting out the sky. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger.
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