(1) last spring i went to visit my aunt and uncle who live in valencia, spain. (2) while i was there, i saw the festival called las fallas—which means the fires. (3) during the festival, the people in town lit fireworks and firecrackers. (4) then, at the end of the festival, the town had a parade with floats made from paper, cardboard, and wood. (5) people filled the large floats with fireworks. (6) at the night's end, people lit the fireworks and burned the giant floats. (7) the experience was incredible. (8) the town's people took many precautions to make sure it was safe for everyone. (9) we saw many different things. (10) my favorite part about the festival was when the citizens voted to pardon one float from burning. (11) the town put the "pardoned" float in a museum with floats from past parades. when joanne began editing her narrative, she decided to move sentence 7. where is the best place for joanne to move sentence 7?

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream