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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

In the twilight Charity saw that his face had the
same sodden look as Bash Hyatt's, the day she had seen him sleeping
by the stove. He made no effort to silence the dogs, but leaned in the
door, as if roused from a drunken lethargy, while Mr. Miles got out of
the buggy.
"Is it here?" the clergyman asked Liff in a low voice; and Liff nodded.
Mr. Miles turned to Charity. "Just hold the horse a minute, my dear:
I'll go in first," he said, putting the reins in her hands. She took
them passively, and sat staring straight ahead of her at the darkening
scene while Mr. Miles and Liff Hyatt went up to the house. They stood
a few minutes talking with the man in the door, and then Mr. Miles came
back. As he came close, Charity saw that his smooth pink face wore a
frightened solemn look.
"Your mother is dead, Charity; you'd better come with me," he said.
She got down and followed him while Liff led the horse away. As
she approached the door she said to herself: "This is where I was
born... this is where I belong.


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