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[Ainulindale-devel] unwind


From: Neville Byrd
Subject: [Ainulindale-devel] unwind
Date: Wed, 13 Sep 2006 19:10:42 -0500

Allthe brilliance and colour and warmth had gone from it. Wevegot to see if the chimney will draw properly. Emily held out her left hand withaverted face. But when Dean looked up again his face had changed.
Well need a dogto keep your cats in order.
It had been an April day, warm inthe sun, cold in the shadow. Yes, she had known fear; it looked outof her pictured eyes now in that dim, furtive light.
But likely she has a sweetmeat stored away in some pocket of hergown for you. She crushed the unbidden thoughtdown sternly.
She was no longer sitting in her chair looking on. She heardthe sea shuddering beyond the dunes. What a difference between her smile and Mona Lisas, said Dean,looking from one to the other. And surf along the shore, And in my heart a name My lips shall speak no more. Yethere she is living on this cheap reprint of Rembrandts canvas.
Not to begetting letters from Dean when he is away seems strange andunnatural. The walls of the shadowy roomseemed slowly to fade from her vision. A broken engagement is a very slightthing nowadays.
It is one of the springs when there is a crop of maple-trees. And something was missing from her laughter.
And cant we arrange to have thespring of Ponce de Leon over in that corner?
And I feel, as you do, thatshe wouldnt put up with any nonsense. An old verse from one ofRoberts poems came into her head: Grey rocks and greyer sea.
With a shiver Emily hurriedly unlocked the door and stepped in. All over the lawn and garden and old orchard tiny maple-trees havesprung up by the hundreds. Coming back to life to findeverything changed and all things made new.
Then I prowled about the hill fields tilllong after dark, studying the stars with my field-glass.
Cousin Jimmy and Aunt Laura knew that, though no one elseseemed to notice it. To think of it meant to thinkof the book she had burned; and THAT hurt beyond bearing. Dean hung a little old miniature of his mother up over themantelpiece. I sometimes think, he whispered, that its wrong to preventanything from growing.

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