His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. “You are the most perfect, the most glorious of created things—tender, frank intellectual, brave, beautiful. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous intermissions. The Jew got in first. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. "Don't ask me about it now.
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