LOSS
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he sea called--you faced the estuary,you were drowned as the tide passed.--I am glad of this--at least you have escaped. The heavy sea-mist stifles me.I choke with each breath--a curious peril, this--the gods have inventedcurious torture for us. One of us, pierced in the flank,dragged himself across the marsh,he tore at the bay-roots,lost hold on the crumbling bank--
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