[Anne's House of Dreams by Lucy Maud Montgomery]@TWC D-Link book
Anne's House of Dreams

CHAPTER 9
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The red light flamed on the white sails of a vessel gliding down the channel, bound to a southern port in a land of palms.

Beyond her, it smote upon and incarnadined the shining, white, grassless faces of the sand dunes.

To the right, it fell on the old house among the willows up the brook, and gave it for a fleeting space casements more splendid than those of an old cathedral.

They glowed out of its quiet and grayness like the throbbing, blood-red thoughts of a vivid soul imprisoned in a dull husk of environment.
"That old house up the brook always seems so lonely," said Anne.

"I never see visitors there.


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