If she was in a position to help him she would help him; only it happened to be the other way round. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. My son went down after his death. Trees were torn up by the roots; many houses were levelled to the ground; others were unroofed; the leads on the churches were ripped off, and "shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment.
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