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Unformatted text preview: w the words of the poem again, same way she had seen them on that long-ago day when she had recited them aloud to Julien in his attic bedroom. "I see it. I do not know what it means." Pain and suffering as they stumble Blood and fear before they learn. Woe betide this Springtime Eden Now the vale of those who mourn. Ah, what a day this was. So much was coming back to her, and yet the present itself was so fresh and sweet. The breeze so good to her. On and on, Ancient Evelyn walked. Here was the vacant lot at Toledano. Would they never build any- thing else there, and look at these apartment buildings, so plain, so ugly, where once glorious mansions had stood, houses grander than her own. Oh, to think of all those people gone since the days when she took Gifford and Alicia downtown, or the other way to the park, walking between them. But the Avenue did keep its beauty. The streetcar rattled into view even as she spoke, and then roared round the bend- the Avenue was one endless curve, just as it...
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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