At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. There’s stories, too, about his demonstrator, Capes Something or other. And me, I wish to know why you have seen him. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other.
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