I was his wife. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. He laughed suddenly, and released her. There is a small yewtree west of the church. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. He was entranced as she walked towards him. Sebastian rose from the tomb.
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