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But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder.
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This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 20-09-2024 23:39:18
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