The Neat Style

 “Martha!” now came her husband’s impatient voice. “Don’t keep folks waiting out here in the cold.”

She again opened the storm-door, and this time joined the three men and the one woman waiting for her in the big two-seated buggy.

After she had the robes tucked around her she took another look at the woman who sat beside her on the back seat. She had met Mrs. Peters the year before at the county fair, and the thing she remembered about her was that she didn’t seem like a sheriff’s wife. She was small and thin and didn’t have a strong voice. Mrs. Gorman, sheriff’s wife before Gorman went out and Peter went in, had a voice that somehow seemed to be backing up the law with every word. But if Mrs. Peters didn’t look like a sheriff’s wife, Peters made it up in looking like a sheriff. He was to a dot the kind of man that could get himself elected as sheriff—a heavy man with a big voice, who was particularly genial with the law-abiding, as if to make it plain that he knew the difference between criminals and non-criminals. And right there it came into Mrs. Hale’s mind, with a stab, that this man who was so pleasant and lively with all of them was going to the Wrights’ now as a sheriff.

“The country’s not very pleasant this time of year,” Mrs. Peters at last ventured, as if she felt they ought to be talking as well as the men.

Mrs. Hale scarcely finished her reply, for they had gone up a little hill and could see the Wright place now, and seeing it did not make her feel like talking. It looked very lonesome this cold March morning. It had always been a lonesome-looking place. It was down in a hollow, and the poplar trees around it were lonesome-looking trees. The men were looking at it and talking about what had happened. The county attorney was bending to one side of the buggy, and kept looking steadily at the place as they drew up to it. 

“I’m glad you came with me,” Mrs. Peters said nervously, as the two women were about to follow the men in through the kitchen door.

-Susan Glaspell, “A Jury of Her Peers”

Martha Hale boards a buggy on the way to a murder scene and thinks about the previous sheriff and his wife compared to the current sheriff and wife. 

Martha Hale saw the buggy approach her house. Her husband called, “Martha, don’t leave folks out in the rain!” She opened the door and joined the three men and the one woman in the buggy. 

Mrs. Peters, the only woman in the buggy besides her, did not look like a sheriff’s wife. She was small and delicate, with a quiet voice. Mrs. Gorman, the previous sheriff’s wife before Gorman went out and Peters went in, was the exact opposite. She was large and sturdy, with a voice that seemed to enforce the law by itself. But what Mrs. Peters lacked in looking like a sheriff’s wife, Peters made up for in looking like a sheriff. He was built like an ox, and would often go on crime-spotting trips to enforce the law to the maximum. Mrs. Hale realized that Peters was going to the Wrights’ as a sheriff, and that brought her to the reality of why they were going there. She shivered. 

The Wrights’ house was lonely-looking on the hill in the rain. The men were talking about what happened, and one of them leaned out the window. “Almost there,” he said. Mrs. Hale tried to make small talk with Mrs. Peters. “The weather is awful this time of year,” she said. Mrs. Peters nodded and nervously looked out the window. The buggy pulled up to the house and they got out. “I’m glad you're here with me,” said Mrs. Peters.

“Maybe true peace is possible after all,” said Nagato. He detached his arms from his spider-contraption and wove a few hand signs. He clapped his hands together and concentrated deeply.

 “What’s he doing?” asked Naruto. “What’s going on?” 

“At his current chakra level, that jutsu will … ” thought Konan. 

Nagato finished concentrating. “There,” he said. “This is the least I can do to atone for my sins.” 

In the crater that was once the Leaf Village, the King of Hell emerged from the ground like a gopher leaving his tunnel. Its mouth opened wide, and untold numbers of souls came pouring out. The souls returned to their bodies, and everyone killed in Pain’s attack came back to life.

Back at the tree, Nagato explained. “There is a seventh Path to my Rinnegan. Called the Outer Path, it presides over life and death. I used it to bring everyone I killed here back to life. I am the seventh Pain.” He coughed up blood and continued speaking. “This Path, however, comes at the cost of the user’s life. I hope that in death I can atone for my sins.”