He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. " "When will you want me?"—with pitiful eagerness. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away.
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