“Do YOU go across the Park?” “Not usually. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. “This is the slavery of the veiled life.
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