is always afraid that the young may grow morbid.
Then the Cure yawned loudly; he was really tired
out, for the wind was blowing again from La Crau,
which invariably depressed and fatigued him: 'Alas,5
he repeated, shaking his head as he closed the book
that he was finding so dull, 'how immeasurably dis-
tant we all are from heaven!'

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