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Updated: May 26, 2025
A northeast storm from the southwest! there is no bitterer satire than this. It lasts three days. After that the weather changes into something winter-like. A solitary song-sparrow, without a note of joy, hops along the snow to the dining-room window, and, turning his little head aside, looks up. He is hungry and cold.
A northeast storm from the southwest! there is no bitterer satire than this. It lasts three days. After that the weather changes into something winter-like. A solitary song-sparrow, without a note of joy, hops along the snow to the dining-room window, and, turning his little head aside, looks up. He is hungry and cold.
A northeast storm from the southwest! there is no bitterer satire than this. It lasts three days. After that the weather changes into something winter-like. A solitary song-sparrow, without a note of joy, hops along the snow to the dining-room window, and, turning his little head aside, looks up. He is hungry and cold.
On the rear platform of the orange-painted train moving deliberately along the Florida coast Lee was first aware of the still, saturating heat; that, in itself, was enough to release him from the winter-like grip of Eastlake. He lost all sense of time, of hurry, of the necessity of occupation as opposed to idleness, of idleness contrasted with sleep.
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