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But now, her voice ceasing, suddenly the actual came back the brown brook swirling at their feet, the tall pines whispering above, the warm pine-incense, the tesserae of sun and shadow dancing together on the carpet of pine-needles, as the tassels overhead swung in the moving air. "You paint Elysium," he said. "You paint a veritable Island of the Blessed." Susanna's eyes clouded.
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