Don't feel fussed upon my account. There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors. It was the same Bios whose nature and drift and ways and methods and aspects engaged them all. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black.
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