the mourners were not even aware that they were here , they were alive , they were screaming and scratching and clawing at the coffin-lid darkness , the air was flaking and costing away , the air was turning into poison gas , hope fading until hope itself was a darkness , and above all of it the nodding chapel-bell voice of the priest and the impatient , shuffling feet of mourners anxious to be off into the warm may sunshine .