" The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. I thank God for the very skin that is peeling from your nose, for all things great and small that make us what we are. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. 5.
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