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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

"G'wan, minister... don't let 'em faze you...."
"Now is Christ risen from the dead and become the first-fruits of them
that slept.... Behold, I show you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but
we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at
the last trump.... For this corruptible must put on incorruption and this
mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruption shall have put
on incorruption, and when this mortal shall have put on immortality,
then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is
swallowed up in Victory...."
One by one the mighty words fell on Charity's bowed head, soothing
the horror, subduing the tumult, mastering her as they mastered the
drink-dazed creatures at her back. Mr. Miles read to the last word, and
then closed the book.
"Is the grave ready?" he asked.
Liff Hyatt, who had come in while he was reading, nodded a "Yes," and
pushed forward to the side of the mattress. The young man on the bench
who seemed to assert some sort of right of kinship with the dead woman,
got to his feet again, and the proprietor of the stove joined him.


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