“Keda,′ she said to herself,′ Keda, this is tragedy.′ But as her words hung emptily in the morning air, she clenched her hands for she could feel no anguish and the bright bird that had filled her breast was still singing... was still singing.”
“Keda,′ she said to herself,′ Keda, this is tragedy.′ But as her words hung emptily in the morning air, she clenched her hands for she could feel no anguish and the bright bird that had filled her breast was still singing... was still singing.”
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