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Pete stared for another longall his

resolution, he withdrew his eyes, nailed them to his paper Clara

peppered hinore her He

did not look up again until a whir-r-r-r-r - loud at first but steadily

diain wrote the rest of the day and by firelight far into the

night In the hted his

paper doith a stone, rolled over on to the pine-needles, and fell

immediately into a deep sleep He lay for hours, his face down, resting

on his arm

Whir-r-r-r-r!

Pete aith a start His one He leaped to his feet,

stared wildly about Not far off Clara was flying, alround

As he watched, she ascended swiftly She held his poem in her hands She

studied it, her head bent She did not once look up or back; her eyes

still jealously glued to the pencil-scratchings, she drifted out to sea,

disappeared

Pete did not move He watched Clara intently until she melted into the

sky But as he watched, his creative mood broke and evaporated And