The end of the world seemed at hand. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling. The priceless things were gathered, the belongings packed. "Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, nobody writes—I mean, on a par with what we've just heard.
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