He told her to show herself to him.

Mummified mannequins dangling above the set, illuminated from within, were a heavy-handed touch, but the designer George Tsypin’s translucent scrims and painted drops beautifully conveyed the passage of sun-blasted days and bone-chilling nights on the edge of civilization.

The comedian's jokes weren't funny, but I forced a laugh now and then.

‘[W]hy do you all sing hymns that way?’ / ‘Linin’?’ she asked. / ‘Is that what it is?’ / ‘Yeah, it’s called linin’. They’ve done it that way as long as I can remember.’ / Jem said it looked like they could save the collection money for a year and get some hymn-books. / Calpurnia laughed. ‘Wouldn’t do any good,’ she said. ‘They can’t read.’