3. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off. Petrified and speechless, he turned an imploring look at Wild, who was himself filled with astonishment at the pile of rubbish lying before him. They rose as she approached.
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