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And when again they met, the less successful one said to his brother: "Again I have found so few who love—although I have found some, and one has given to me this: You can't wash up spilled milk with tears. Give it a chance to evaporate."
"That is wise," said his brother.
"Yes, but it is not very sweet—it has not such ring of earnest feeling as you bring. Now what have you?"
The other leaned his chin upon his hand, looking deep down among the wondrous shapes and shadows far below, where the great, domed
