“But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. Her hair is like, white blonde, but trust me, it’s not her natural color. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. ” “You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation.
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