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org. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. For I still love her mother.
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