He would never recognize me now. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat. 'It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.
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