’ Bitterness rose up as he looked at the female. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm.
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