Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. “You will not even answer my letters. They would suffer amazing hardships to hunt the snow-leopard; but in the Temple of Five Hundred Gods they would not take the trouble to ask the name of one! But this girl, she was alone. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. “G.
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