"By Jove, Sigurd, you're too clever for your age! Think I came away to grieve, eh?
Not so, my boy--came away to smoke! There's a come-down for you! I never grieve--don't know how to do it.

What _is_ grief ?" "To love!" answered Sigurd promptly.

"To see a beautiful elf with golden wings come fluttering, fluttering gently down from the sky,--you open your arms to catch her--so!.

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