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feel and understand!"
Jane went back into the kitchen to the inexorable
tasks that death has no power, even for a day, to
blot from existence. He can stalk through dwelling
after dwelling, leaving despair and desolation behind
him, but the table must be laid, the dishes washed,
the beds made, by somebody.
Ten minutes later Rebecca came out from the
Great Presence looking white and spent, but chastened
and glorified. She sat in the quiet doorway,
shaded from the little Riverboro world by the
overhanging elms. A wide sense of thankfulness and
peace possessed her, as she looked at the autumn
landscape, listened to the rumble of a wagon on the
bridge, and heard the call of the river as it dashed
to the sea. She put up her hand softly and touched
first the shining brass knocker and then the red
bricks, glowing in the October sun.
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