Parables of a Province by Gilbert Parker
page 67 of 67 (100%)
page 67 of 67 (100%)
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Then, presently, he rose, and caught his wife to his breast. Together, a moment later, they stood beside the anvil. The wolf-dog fled out into the night from the shower of sparks, as, in the red light, the two sang to the clanging of the hammers: "When God was making the world (Swift is the wind and white is the fire)" |
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