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A CHILD OF THE JAGO
were twittering. Another door: in a shed.
This was the place. All white, everywhere—frame too; not black, after all. Up the steps. . . . Hold tight: not much longer. Stand there? Very well.
"Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower: he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.
"In the midst of life . . . . ."
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