Behind the walls, though, there'll be gossip, the tin roofs will be scorching. There'll be biscuits and tea and enemies made sudden friends because they're boiling over with gossip, tripping over their tongues. Have you heard. I know they found. I don't envy. They're saying it's. They'll say There but for the grace of God go I, as if murder's something that gets shared around nice and fair and square (74).