stories by english authors in london(英国作家在伦敦的故事)-第30节
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of bells startled the brooding night; here and there a window was opened;
and figures appeared in balconies to listen。 They were ringing in the New
Yearthe festival of hope; the birthday of the world! But what were New
Years to her; who; with white; upturned face; and arms that embraced an
infant in the tenacious grip of death; went drifting; drifting solemnly down
the dark river; unseen; unpitied by all those who awoke to new hopes and
aspirations on that first morning of another life…probation! Liz had gone;
gone to make her peace with Godperhaps through the aid of her 〃hired〃
baby; the little sinless soul she had so fondly cherished; gone to that
sweetest 〃home〃 we dream of and pray for; where the lost and bewildered
wanderers of this earth shall find true welcome and rest from grief and
exile; gone to that fair; far glory…world where reigns the divine Master;
whose words still ring above the tumult of ages: 〃See that ye despise not
one of these little ones; for I say unto you; that their angels do always
behold the face of My Father who is in heaven。〃
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