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FREE RANGE LANNING
it is easiest to die, the pure and melancholy cold of
autumn, the fragrance of a garden passed unknown in
the night.
It became impossible for him to bear the sight of her eyes. If he remained she might speak, and he feared to hear her. A sense of a third presence, of another soul in the room overwhelmed him; he could not give it a name, and therefore he called it God.
She had not stirred when he slipped without a noise through the window and was instantly swallowed in the rushing of the wind and rain.
