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Updated: May 23, 2025
We shall meet no more till all this game is played and another game is set," and the shape of Swanhild crouched upon the floor before the hag-headed toad muttering "Pass! pass!" Then Swanhild felt her flesh come back to her, and as it grew upon her so the shape of the Death-headed toad faded away.
There were showers of falling stars, it rained blood in various places, death-headed moths flew about in the evenings, wolves, tame and fawning like dogs, appeared in the village and let themselves be beaten to death before the thresholds of the houses. What was going to happen? nobody could tell. Everyone augured, feared, felt that mourning and woe were close at hand; yes, everyone.
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