| The Last Unicorn Continued. . . |
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| "Like a newborn child, the magician wept for a long time before he could speak. 'The poor old woman,' he whispered at last. The unicorn said nothing, and Schmendrick raised his head and stared at her in a strange way. A gray morning rain was beginning to fall, and she shone through it like a dolphin. 'No,' she said, answering his eyes. 'I can never regret.' " Peter S. Beagle |