He’s dead. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. They went to the Zoological Gardens together one Saturday to see for themselves a point of morphological interest about the toucan’s bill—that friendly and entertaining bird—and they spent the rest of the afternoon walking about and elaborating in general terms this theme and the superiority of intellectual fellowship to all merely passionate relationships. “I’m inclined to think, Stanley, myself that as a matter of fact it was the expurgated Romeo and Juliet did the mischief. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. But I am not indisposed to gratify you.
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