“You will pardon me, sir,” he said in a subdued tone, “but I think that you have forgotten to look at your engagement book. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. “To me it seems serious enough. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. She will cry for days and nights together. She saw his face change, how he regretted. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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