Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. God bless you, anyhow!" she added, with a spontaneity which surprised Sister Angelina into uttering an individual gasp.
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