“In Paris your sister appeared to me to be a charming student of frivolity. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. So many distresses— so many joys coming at the same time are too much for me. ” “Exactly! And so you came along to me. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. Even Ah Cum had resumed his Oriental shell of reserve. Perhaps it was loneliness. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears.
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