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from Brown Corpus
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Stevie was constantly slipping into the church.
He pulled with all his strength at the heavy, brass-bound door, and shuffled along the wainscoted wall.
The cold, mysterious presence of God was all around him.
At the end of a shaft of light, the pews appeared to be broad stairs in a long dungeon.
Far away, standing before a curtained window in the study room, was his father, hands tucked under his coattails, and staring into the dark church.
The figure was wreathed in an extraordinary luminescence.

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