Sentence The Fivehundredandsixtieth 

 

In the family tomb of the McCorquindales, The Intruder created a hypogeal life for himself, behind a roughly fashioned rood screen, while he waited for his facial hair to grow to match the photograph of Hamish MacDonald, on the stolen Identity Card, and passed the hours, days and nights in an almost gravid state, composing in his mind a mystical hagiography of his late Hero, Mentor and Fuhrer, Saint Adolf!