The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. She became aware of the Scotch student regarding her with stupendous amazement, a tea-cup poised in one hairy hand and his faceted glasses showing a various enlargement of segments of his eye. Anyone would be intrigued. “Go on,” he said. It was a young girl who overheard me when I was on my third shopkeeper who answered my question. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings.
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