He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences,
nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his
wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach. They
played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the
boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open
door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on.
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