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At the Back of the North Wind by George MacDonald
page 360 of 360 (100%)

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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