She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. I kicked the living shit out of him. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation.
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