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But the first tempest of passion had spent itself, when a woman not the first whom my plight had attracted, but the others had merely shrugged their shoulders and passed on paused before me. "What a white skin!" she cried, making great eyes at me; and they had cut my clothes so that I was half bare to her. And then, "You are not a street-prowler. How come you here, my lad, in that guise?"
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