She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. They were really very fine and abundant, with a blaze of perennial sunflowers behind them. Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. gutenberg. The Idle Apprentice II.
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