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clean forgotten. Another blank, and he was thrusting his
pass-key into the door-lock of his father's house.
Hours must have passed. Whether crouched on the cold stones
or wandering in the fields among the snow, was more than he
could tell; but hours had passed. The finger of the hall
clock was close on twelve; a narrow peep of gas in the hall-
lamp shed shadows; and the door of the back room - his
father's room - was open and emitted a warm light. At so
late an hour, all this was strange; the lights should have
been out, the doors locked, the good folk safe in bed. He
marvelled at the irregularity, leaning on the hall-table; and
marvelled to himself there; and thawed and grew once more
hungry, in the warmer air of the house.
The clock uttered its premonitory catch; in five minutes
Christmas-day would be among the days of the past -
Christmas! - what a Christmas! Well, there was no use
waiting; he had come into that house, he scarce knew how; if
they were to thrust him forth again, it had best be done at
once; and he moved to the door of the back room and entered.
Oh, well, then he was insane, as he had long believed.
There, in his father's room, at midnight, the fire was
roaring and the gas blazing; the papers, the sacred papers -
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