Uncle Ingemar was clearly annoyed at not having a virgin to sacrifice.
After locking up, he thought carefully about what Uncle Ingemar had said.
In his warmly heated pew, Barrent drowsed through Uncle Ingemar's sermon on the necessary performance of everyday evil.
Peering anxiously at him was the broad, swarthy face of Uncle Ingemar.
"You'll change your mind when you become an older inhabitant," Ingemar said.
"A hundred and eight degrees to be exact," Uncle Ingemar said.
And it proved, Uncle Ingemar said, that Evil was the business of the poor as well as the rich.
"It's the perfect punitive world," Uncle Ingemar said proudly.
Uncle Ingemar's low, monotonous voice lecturing about so commonplace a thing as Evil had a soporific effect on him.
Not even visits from Uncle Ingemar could make him change his antireligious ways.