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Howells, William Dean, 1837-1920

"Complete March Family Trilogy"

At last the
lurid horizon began to burn like a flame-shot smoke, and a fiercely
bright disc edge pierced its level, and swiftly defined itself as the
sun's orb.
Many thoughts went through March's mind; some of them were sad, but in
some there was a touch of hopefulness. It might have been that beauty
which consoled him for his years; somehow he felt himself, if no longer
young, a part of the young immortal frame of things. His state was
indefinable, but he longed to hint at it to his companion.
"Yes," said Eltwin, with a long deep sigh. "I feel as if I could walk out
through that brightness and find her. I reckon that such hopes wouldn't
be allowed to lie to us; that so many ages of men couldn't have fooled
themselves so. I'm glad I've seen this." He was silent and they both
remained watching the rising sun till they could not bear its splendor.
"Now," said the major, "it must be time for that mud, as you call it."
Over their coffee and crackers at the end of the table which they had to
themselves, he resumed. "I was thinking all the time--we seem to think
half a dozen things at once, and this was one of them--about a piece of
business I've got to settle when I reach home; and perhaps you can advise
me about it; you're an editor.


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