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48 sunday, niGht Yes, I nearly dubbed it Sabbath, as I remain in a portentous and self-indulging mood. But when I woke in the dark in confusion, midnight one minute passed, no longer shivering, I rose to free myself from wool socks and cotton legs. Safe again in blankets I found you suddenly there, with nothing in the winter world like your dog close in bed, and our faint god allowed me a few scenes of untainted memory, good romp and play. In the late, gray room I heard your mother turn, and turn again, and knew her night wasn’t so merciful. But you stayed for awhile, with nothing more to pay, and when sleep returned you were, naturally, right with me loping behind that pale curtain. ...

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