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| Agnes, The Wind Howled In Fury September 23, 1940 |
I was not sure what to make of it. Bill- the curmudgeon- cracked and then cascaded outside our neighborhood. He was so intolerant; perhaps it was his just desert to fall in such a shameful way. Benjamin, sweet and sensitive went with him under a crushing blow. It was not his fault. When the wind howled in fury I could see that I would not patiently sleep until the greening. There is comfort. I have a little one beneath me that will feel more sun and warmth. |
