At the Back of the North Wind by George MacDonald
page 360 of 360 (100%)
page 360 of 360 (100%)
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Four days after, I called again at the Mound. The maid who opened the door looked grave, but I suspected nothing. When I reached the drawing-room, I saw Mrs. Raymond had been crying. "Haven't you heard?" she said, seeing my questioning looks. "I've heard nothing," I answered. "This morning we found our dear little Diamond lying on the floor of the big attic-room, just outside his own door--fast asleep, as we thought. But when we took him up, we did not think he was asleep. We saw that----" Here the kind-hearted lady broke out crying afresh. "May I go and see him?" I asked. "Yes," she sobbed. "You know your way to the top of the tower." I walked up the winding stair, and entered his room. A lovely figure, as white and almost as clear as alabaster, was lying on the bed. I saw at once how it was. They thought he was dead. I knew that he had gone to the back of the north wind. |
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