The Old Mint III. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. " "Fear nothing. "My child!" he groaned faintly.
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