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Rh woman named To-morrow sits with a hairpin in her teeth and takes her time and does her hair the way she wants it and fastens at last the last braid and coil and puts the hairpin where it belongs and turns and drawls : Well, what of it ? My grandmother, Yesterday, is gone. What of it? Let the dead be dead.

The doors were cedar and the panels strips of gold and the girls were golden girls and the panels read and the girls chanted : We are the greatest city, the greatest nation: nothing like us ever was.