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I ps29万型was lying in my library chair here at Sevenhays, and repeating to myself a scrap h, retracing in thought the circumstanps29万型ces ps29万型of Harry’s last parting from me, at two o’clock on the morning of January 4th. I had just finished another reading of the Tenth Vision and had tossed my book into the lap of an armchair opposite. Fire and lamp were burning brightly. The night outside was still and soundless, condition of mind, then, with a touch of frost.

I lay there,