The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. The stags and oxen and things all have to fight for us, everywhere. My friends consider it wonderfully faithful. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. She screamed at Sebastian. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it.
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