” He stared at a little eddy. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. “Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated. This time there wasn't any doubt. . Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. " He laughed and followed her into the hotel. “Round midnight, I think. \"No, I think he just broke up with someone.
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