” “Why not?” She turned on him. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. My son went down after his death. There were lines in her face that age had not put there. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky. Nice lady.
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