the sin of one, but the many. You are slow to anger, but when it comes, Your anger is like the storms that sweep a field of wheat, laying low not just one stalk or a score but every one. I have sowed the wind and reaped the whirlwind, not just for one but for many.’ There were other sins and other sinners in The Mill – he knew that, he was not naïve, they swore and danced and sexed and took drugs he knew far too much about – and they no doubt deserved to be punished, to be scourged, but that was true of every town, surely, and this was the only one that had been singled out for this terrible
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