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Updated: June 1, 2025
Laughing, Christopher rose from his chair and, with a patriarchal dignity of manner, followed the old man into the moonlight. At twelve o'clock the next day, Carraway, walking in the June brightness along the road to the Blake cottage, came suddenly, at the bend of the old icepond, upon Maria Fletcher returning from a morning ride.
Herr Brechenmacher strode up and down the kitchen, was helped on with his coat, then waited while the Frau lighted the lantern. "Now, then finished at last! Come along." "The lamp, Rosa," warned the Frau, slamming the front door behind them. Snow had not fallen all day; the frozen ground was slippery as an icepond.
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