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Unformatted text preview: declared and I felt him like the wind wrapping me so roughly suddenly he might knock me over. I went down on my knees. The wind ceased. "Thank you, spirit," said I. I struck a match, shield- ing it carefully, and lighted the wick of the lantern. "Won't you tell me of those times?" "I'd tell you what I see from here. I see my children." "Do you speak of us now?" But that was all he would say, though he followed me as I made a path through the high grass, over rocky and uneven ground, and came at last to the ruins themselves and stood in the giant nave looking at the broken arches. Dear God, what a grand cathedral it must have been. I had seen its like all over Europe. It was not in the Roman style, with rounded arches and paintings galore; no doubt it was cold stone, and lofty and graceful as the Cathedral of Chartres or Canterbury. "But the glass, does anything remain of the glorious glass?" I whis- pered. And in mournful answer the wind swept broadly and serenel...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10