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Excerpt from Dostoevsky, His Life and Art
He is bigger now: he has turned three. Nurse has just brought him into the parlour to show her charge off to the company. He kneels, facing the icon in the corner, and before them all he says his bedtime prayer: All my hope I place in thee, Mother of God; shelter me under thy mantle. What a clever little boy! The guests exclaim.
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