Her story came to an end. She had not raised her voice: she had not
cried. But things seemed to change as the story progressed. The fire
looked as if it was laughing at her troubles. All the objects around her
appeared not to care about her tragic history. And yet it was only a
short time since he had been kissing her. Everything looked different
now. Clare stirred the fire. It was unnecessary, but he felt he had
to do something. He had not really taken in the whole story yet. He
stood up. Now as he began to understand the story in its full horror,
his face was like an old man's. He made uncertain movements, because
everything in his head was vague and uncertain. He could not make
himself think clearly.
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张纤月