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The
day
dawned
bleak
and
chill,
a
moving
wall
of
gray
light
out
of
the
northeast
which,
instead
of
dissolving
into
moisture,
seemed
to
disintegrate
into
minute
and
venomous
particles,
like
dust
that,
when
Dilsey
opened
the
door
of
the
cabin
and
emerged,
needled
laterally
into
her
flesh,
precipitating
not
so
much
a
moisture
as
a
substance
partaking
of
the
quality
of
thin,
not
quite
congealed
oil.
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