She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. It’s gone. "What's the matter?" he cried. She had started wearing the dresses he bought for her, the white and blue shift he said, “brings out the color in your eyes”. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too.
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