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They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. Not at all. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. She had a nut-brown skin, a swarthy upper lip, a merry black eye, a prominent bust, and a tun-like circumference of waist. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked.
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