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REYKHOLT

he house in which we spent the ‘light night’ is an unsightly concrete cube. In winter,

it is a classroom. It is ten o’clock on the night of the summer solstice and as light as

day. I am in my room, writing. My comrades are relaxing downstairs, where a

swimming pool is fed from warm springs. I too, worn out by the long and laborious voyage,

had enjoy…