There are no faces left at the windows.
The giant turns . . . looks at the emptiness around him . . . frowns in disgust . . . opens his mouth to speak when the temple falls in a crash . . . and the voice of the giant is stilled.
The low, satin-soft voice he heard is drowned out by the rolling tumble of loose, crashing stones . . . these stones that formed the temple of America's Social System end the life and problems of the Negro giant as they collapse.
Barely audible above the din there sounds the laughter of the gods . . .
